A Rose
by Xekstrin
Summary: While the Storm Hawks are on a peace treaty mission between two backwards Terras, an unknown third party starts targeting nobles- including the fallen Empress of Cyclonia and the Dark Ace's son. Allegiances are tested as this new threat is dealt with.
1. Age of Sorrows

The Dark Ace and his Co-Pilot, The Wallop Wrestler, the Crystal Expert, the Carrier Pilot, the Sniper.

These are the titles announced to each of them individually as Aerrow (with Radarr on his shoulder), Junko, Nightingale, Ammi-Mano, and Finn filed in through the doors to the throne room.

Princess Peregrine flagrantly broke protocol, getting up from her seat, running to Aerrow and putting her arms around his neck in a fond hug when he and his famous squadron strolled into the throne room. "Hi, guys!" she said, her honey gold eyes, her dark skin, her voice temporarily sending Aerrow into a temporal vertigo.

"Um, hi Perry…" the Dark Ace said, peeling the girl off of him and setting her firmly down on the floor. "Good to see you too. Been a while, hasn't it?"

"How's the scholar we sent from Atmosia doing?" Finn wanted to know.

"When's dinner? I'm starved!" Three guesses as to who said _that_…

Mano stepped forward, putting his right hand over his chest and bowing elegantly to the princess. "Pleased to meet you, Princess Peregrine. I'm the new guy."

Perry stared at Mano and didn't even try to hide it, though that wasn't new for the Pan. He stood at six feet and eight inches, including the pair of curling goat horns and the equally curly hair that hadn't seen a razor in ten months. He grinned down at her, his simian tail undulating as it always did when he was pleased. Mano enjoyed the attention he got when venturing out of Terra Forge, the place he called home.

Perry immediately began to walk around him, holding his tail and stroking it, poking him every so often, and shooting off questions all the while. "Wow! I've never seen a Pan before! Is it true what Finn said and you're a professional racer? I thought Nightingale was the pilot? Is the Blizzarian girl with you? I want to meet her!"

Junko pulled the girl off of their pilot when she began to jump up and down in front of him, wanting to tug at his horns. "_Per-_ry! That's our pilot!"

"And I'm the wallflower.." Nightingale's voice seemed distant as her red eyes roamed around the room, white eyebrows lifted and mouth set permanently in an expression of _lets get it over with already…_

Perry straightened herself, patting her hair down after her brief moment of excitement. "Oh, sorry. You're Nightingale, right? I," she motioned to herself with a flurry of her hand, "Am Princess Peregrine, ruler of Klockstopia." Then she brightened. "But you can call me Perry!"

Nightingale stared her down.

Finn nudged her in the ribs.

"…You don't say," Nightingale finally drawled. "A princess. Wow. So if we're done with the pleasantries, can you tell us what you actually _need_ us for?"

"Wel…" Princess Peregrine said, and an uncertain grin spread across her face. "You see, it's kind of like this…"

**OoOoOo**

**Some things were different.**

**Some things were the same.**

**Some things would never change.**

**Welcome to _A Rose_.**

**Is A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose.**

**Is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose. **

**Stork has been dead for five years and Piper is gone, having formed her own squadron after a falling-out with the other Storm Hawks. Now the Storm Hawks are on a mission for a peace treaty between two backwards Terras, but since when did things ever stay that simple?**

**Yes, this is what I've been doing instead of Flight Complex. SUE ME.**

**Nightingale is not an OC. She belongs to Nerd Corps.**

**Rave belongs to 7blackcat13.**

**Ammi-Mano belongs to me.**

**The Storm Hawks and all related ideas and locations belong to Nerd Corps, but I make them look good.**

**Enjoy.**

**And Review.**

**OoOoOo**

**Nightingale**

_Droplets of water, making the dark flesh slick under my fingertips. _

We sit in Perry's private dining chamber, or rather, everyone but me sits. I slouch in my seat and cross my arms and look everywhere but the princess. The table is made to seat ten- Aerrow sits at her right, Finn at her left. I sit between Finn and Ammi-Mano, while Junko sits at Aerrow's right. The other end of the table remains bare except for Radarr, who weaves among wine glasses and platters of fruit like a cat, sniffing at everything and picking here and there at the choice bits. I give a sharp whistle and he skitters over to me, half-crouched on the table where I can stroke his head and long neck.

I only half listen to what's going on.

Perry speaks to the group, explaining the situation of Klockstopia. Before, relations with nearby terras were maintained through letters carried by messenger birds. As Klockstopia and other terras slowly began to lift the ban on crystals, they, aided by several Atmosian professors of crystallography, are beginning to develop flying machines and travel between the terras is now possible. But, as humans are an ungrateful, warmongering lot, this has now created tension between the two and a marriage of the royal families had been arranged to form a peace treaty.

"My younger cousin, heiress to the duchy of Canterbury, is to go to nearby Terra Lulliatus and marry the crown prince. I'd go myself but I'm already betrothed, unfortunately."

She says it so calmly.

Did I ever say it that calmly?

I rest my chin in the palm of my hand and look at her and try not to hate her just because of her face.

"See, the only problem is…" Perry fidgets in her seat, gloved hands wringing her napkin. "Now that we're on the maps, bigger terras with better technology don't want us to band together and become stronger. We're better targets this way, separate. So they're almost certain to try and sabotage our peace treaty."

"Bodyguards."

Everyone looks at me, and I pull Radarr onto my lap. He lets out a miffed grunt and wriggles in my arms so I let him go, where he runs to be perched on Aerrow's shoulder. Great. Now I'm alone.

I speak again. "You want us to be her bodyguard?"

Perry nods. "The plan is to have two decoys as well as the princess- three different ships, three different routes. I've already contracted two other mercenary groups to help with this. You, the Storm Hawks, will carry the duchess on the _Condor _for the first leg of the journey. There'll be a midway point where we then switch her for one of the decoys and continue, since…" here she has the decency to look embarrassed. "Any attempt on her life will probably be once we get close to our final destination."

Aerrow smiles. "And of course, everyone assumes the Storm Hawks will have the real duchess."

Perry bows her head. "I'm sorry. It's dangerous, I know, but there aren't many people Klockstopia can trust these days."

"Don't you worry about a thing!" Finn stands up, pushing his chair back with a squeal of legs against the marble floor. "Hah! Danger? Danger is my middle name, sweet cheeks!"

"Finn, sit down," the rest of us chorus. Finn meekly obeys, and I pat him on the shoulder.

Ammi-Mano reclines in his chair, cushioning his head with both of his large brown hands. "So who are the other mercenary groups?" he wants to know.

"Mm." Perry holds one finger up. "You're about to meet one of them. The Gladiators are actually the closest thing this region has to a Sky Knight Squadron, so they were naturally our first choice." She smiles at us beatifically, clasping her hands together. "Tonight you are all my guests, to better acquaint yourselves to one another."

"Gladiators, huh?" Ammi-Mano murmurs to me. "Never heard of 'em."

"I have," I say back. "They're pretty infamous, all right. Their leader was only beginning his training as a squire when he was booted from Sky Knight Academy and came over here to introduce the whole concept of aerial combat to the Klockstopians."

"I like this guy already."

"Who's the other squadron?" Finn asks, louder than us both and forcing me to pay attention to the matter at hand again.

"Ah." Perry pauses. "The…" Perry pauses again. "Glaive and the Renegades," she says at last. "I know you've worked with them before, so…"

There's an uncanny silence at the table, and I flick a grape into my mouth, hoping to get rid of the sour words that threatened to spill out.

"Perry, the Renegades and the Storm Hawks…" Aerrow tries to find delicate words to explain the situation, and comes up with, "…We have history."

And then it's my turn to burst out and break the silence again. Putting my hands flat on the table, I sit forward and fix Perry with my worst death glare. "Glaive is a chain-smoking alcoholic skirt-chasing rude obnoxious know-it-all and the last time we met I almost got killed."

_Rusty red, blood on my tongue. Sharp, salty sweat…_

I sit back in my chair and cross my arms again.

"So when do we start?"

**OoOoOo**

Rave awoke on the couch to find Piper sprawled on top of her, mouth slightly ajar and drooling on her bare shoulder. This wouldn't have been so terribly out of the ordinary if Piper's white, button-up shirt hadn't been _un_buttoned and the both of them didn't reek of alcohol. Rave's throat constricted to hold back the rancid bile when Piper moved, putting more weight on Rave's stomach as she curled up on her side with her head tucked under Rave's chin. Rave fought it. She really did. But soon the world began to sparkle and spot with white stars, the colors became dull, and the lines between objects lost their contrast and Rave unceremoniously rolled Piper off of her and ran to the bathroom, almost not making it. The vomit filled her mouth as she reached the doorframe to the bathroom but thankfully she was able to spit it out before the next wave hit her and the girl's sickness could be heard throughout the small carrier ship.

"Oh, ouch," Piper said, rubbing her head and trying to walk but it was hard when her eyes were glued shut. She opened them to find everything covered in a cloudy haze that only slightly diminished when she blinked. Rubbing at her eyes, her fingers came away coated in the _thickest fucking eye gunk_ she'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. Noticing for the first time her half-dressed state, she began to button herself up when a lump on her chest caught her attention.

In her breast pocket was a crumpled note, a kiss imprinted on it in pink lipstick and a note: "Happy 21st. Hope you had as much fun as I did. ;) see you soon!"

Piper read it a few times, trying to remember who had given it to her and why. "Rave?" She called out to her co-pilot. "Uahh..." though she wasn't as bad as the catgirl sitting on the floor, Piper was still disoriented and her words came out slurred. "W-we didn't have sex, did we?"

Rave, thankfully, was feeling better by then. She flushed the toilet, wiping the rim with a wet paper towel before resting her head against the blessed, cool walls of the bathroom. She groaned, turning her head to the side so her burning cheek could feel the chill. "Uhhh," she moaned. "Not with each other, I don't think…"

The rest was lost in a fresh, unexpected wave of roaring sickness.

"I'm never…doing this… again.."

Piper poked her head through the doorway, looking down at her friend. "This is where I say, 'that's what they all say.' "

Rave's baleful green eyes regarded Piper with full unadulterated hatred for a grand total of five seconds. "Why the hell aren't you throwing up?" she demanded at last, unsticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth. Piper's response was to disappear and then rematerialize a few moments later with a glass of water from the kitchen. Rave gargled half, spat it into the toilet, and downed the rest. "I hate you," she muttered, putting her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. "I hate everything."

"Wow. Aren't you just a ray of butterfly-kissing sunshine this morning."

"I'm hungover!" Rave shouted, and then regretted it as the headache she forgot she had reared it's head. Apparently the part of her brain that received distress signals had been too preoccupied with her rebelling stomach, but now that that had been dealt with the other bodily complaints she had were able to manifest themselves. "And... And you're not!" She pointed now to Piper's collar, which was smeared with- suspicious, suspicious- pink lipstick. Neither of the two girls currently in the bathroom wore lipstick, at least not _pink_. "And what's that crap all over your shirt?"

Piper smiled thinly. Then she pulled a thin, flat, mirror-like crystal out of her back pocket and pointed it at Rave. There was a brief explosion of green light and a gangly hand formed from the pure energy radiating from the crystal, picking Rave up and dumping her in the shower where a single green finger- a finger as large as Rave herself- flicked on the cold water.

Rave literally yowled, her cat-ears flipping to press so tightly against her skull they almost disappeared into her striped hair. And the next few words out of her mouth were so heavily laden with expletives there isn't a need to repeat them in print.

And that was when Piper remembered where she got the note.

**OoOoOo**

**Rave**

Living high in the atmosphere as we do, the temperatures are naturally cold, but the closer we get to the equator the less that seems to make a difference. We save a lot of money on furnace crystals, sure, but when we get close to land I find myself missing the time when December meant snow. My old squadron, the Gogo Giants, hail from the scattered mountaintops of the Wallops and use it as their base of operations. My new life, here on the _Mercury_, living with Piper, we generally use my home town Terra Felidaex as our HQ. It's tropical jungle there as far as the eye can see, baby, and most of the kids there have never seen snow. And man, I _really _haven't gotten used to that yet.

And I always get mixed feelings when I see that lushly green landscape begin to sink in the distance.

"Where are we going again?" I ask Piper, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as my home Terra disappears into the clouds.

Piper's voice is soft and vague as she glances over at her charts, standing at the helm with the ship's controls under her hands. "Klockstopia."

"Eh?"

"It's a... kinda backwards kinda place. Home to my clone."

"...Eh?'

"You'll see."

I tilt my head to the side, right ear twitching once but otherwise I'm still as I consider what Piper just said. "So... what does Backwardstopia have to do with that note?"

"Mmph," Piper grunts.

"Cause that handwriting looks a lot like-"

"_Mmmph_," Piper says again, with the hint of a threat behind it this time.

"I'm just saying if we're going to be working with-"

"Would you _drop it_, Rave?" Piper says, frustrated, and I manage to squeeze out (my opening words overlapping Piper's closing ones): "I just don't want her to do what she did _last _time!" and Piper on the heels of that: "She might join us permanently so get used to it!"

A ragged silence.

"So… are we there yet?"

Piper rests her head against the controls and slouches, sighing loudly.

**OoOoOo**

**Nightingale.**

**The Next Day.**

Aerrow made me stay behind today, since they were meeting with Glaive and the Renegades, but I doubt they could still be working out the details of the journey. It's noon already. Walking down the ramp from the _Condor _to the docks, I make my way to the castle proper with my eight-year-old nephew's hand held tightly in mine. My dog, Bruno, trots a few paces behind us and covers our back the way he always does.

"Is the princess pretty?" Stern wants to know. We had arrived in Klockstopia late last night, and he had already been in bed with Bruno on the floor next to him as guardian. So Stern didn't get to see Perry.

I answer him with a question of my own. "Did Aerrow or I ever show you a picture of Piper?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

"But Finn said she was reeeeeeeaally pretty!" Stern says, tugging at my arm, swinging it slightly, his cheeks already red and flushed from the cold. "The most beautiful girl he'd ever seen."

Some small part of my brain twitched in anger to hear that, but I ignore it. "Princess Perry said we could enter her gardens whenever we wished," I tell him, unable to control the way my grip tightened on his hand but otherwise maintaining myself rather well. "Let's go take Bruno for a walk."

"Won't he poop?"

"Perry has five hundred servants who'd let her use their shirts to blow her nose with. Let them take care of it."

Maybe I'm not the best caretaker ever, but at least I'm honest.

Most of the time.

The gardens are a lovely place, and well built. My eyes don't miss the steady fortifications on the walls, the solid stone blocks that serve as benches- and could easily be ducked under. The fact that all the trees bear fruits or nuts is a plus, but right now they're all barren save for drifts of heavy snow. Silly princess or no, at least the castle was designed to withstand siege. I silently allotted brownie points to Klockstopia for having _some _common sense.

Bruno prances ahead of me, bushy tail erect and proud as he sniffs and huffs at the ground, pissing on a few of the fruit trees while he's at it. Stern lets go of my hand and runs after the dog, picking up a stick and tossing it for Bruno to fetch. The dog lumbers after it, returning the stick to my nephew and sitting on the floor with his tail beating the ground. Sitting as he is, Bruno's face comes up to Stern's shoulder, and Stern isn't as small as he used to be.

"Hi."

I turn around sharply, hand reaching to my shoulder to try and find a staff that wasn't there. Of course. Weapons were left stowed aboard the ship when docking in Klockstopia. Damnit.

There's a young man sitting on one of the lower branches of a fruit tree, his long legs dangling freely. Long dark hair, light eyes, light skin. Inconspicuous, really, but a voice deep inside me warns me that there's something off about him that isn't readily apparent to the naked eye.

"I'm Tern," he says, "For the time being, I'm one of the Renegades so we'll be working together, if that Storm Hawk logo on your back is anything to go by. Are you looking for Glaive?" he point off somewhere to his right, down one of the garden paths. "She's down there."

…Well.

I blow out a hot breath that turns into fog in the chilly winter air, examining him in silence. "Yeah," I say. "Sure." Then I raise my voice into a shout, "Stern! Stay here with Bruno for a minute, would you?"

**OoOoOo**

Snow flurries.

I find her sitting on one of the slabs of grey rock that serve as rough benches, enjoying a cigarette in the cool, crisp air. Black, gloved fingers hold the white cylinder between each other, the orange tip glowing unusually bright. I sit down next to her without a word, stretching my arms behind my back and letting out a small sound of content when I hear my back pop and crack. Then I relax, sit and look at the sky, and let my hands go numb with cold.

Glaive purses her lips, spits out a thin jet of smoke towards the ground. That's when I turn to her, a wry smile forcing its way onto my face. "Bet you think you look cool, smoking like that."

She turns to look at me but all I can see are the thick black lenses of her sunglasses. I reach up, hesitate, but then I grab them by the rim and pull them off her face when she doesn't show any sign of moving. Bloodshot golden eyes meet mine and she sighs, turning away from me again.

"…Hello, Lark," she says to me at last.

"Hello, Piper," I say back, and I sit facing forward again, her sunglasses resting on my lap and the falling snow collecting on my shoulders and the top of my head.


	2. Hold Me And Tell Me We'll Burn

**A/N: ** Typo, sorry. Stern isn't eight years old, he's six. Two years after Stork died Lark joined the Storm Hawks with three-year-old Stern in tow; this is three years after that. German translations courtesy of babelfish XD.

**The First Interlude**

**Piper's story.**

**100 Themes for The Time In-Between.**

"**Dancing in the rain of descending ash, dancing on your grave- I see you all fall away. Dancing in the rain of descending ash- dancing in your dust- I see you all fall away. I'd stop it have you a heart. (Your. Heart.) I'd stop it have you a heart. (Your. Heart.)"**

**- "Paper Airplanes (Makeshift Wings)" by AFI.**

**OoOoOo**

**1. Walking.**

When she was sixteen years old she walked off the _Condor_, cool as you please- five years later she was running, and yet she never seemed to get any further away.

**-YEAR ONE-**

**2. Burning.**

Neither Stork's death nor the steady march of time were enough to dull her sharp curiosity, and as the weeks stretched into months she felt an inferno building inside her, one of rage and despair and unanswered questions- "I need to know," she whispers fiercely to the wind as she stands on the edge of a barren terra, holding herself and shivering, gazing down into the Wastelands and contemplating suicide.

**3. Whimsy.**

She had no idea what drove her to seek him out- perhaps it was whimsy (or maybe it was the way he had so effortlessly manipulated her crystals that one time- only one other person in her life had that kind of power and that was Lark.).

**4. Jester.**

"So, ya've caught up ta me have you? Enyah, hah hah!" Arygyn leans heavily on his cane but throws his head back and laughs as though the wild goose hunt she'd undertaken to find him had been the highlight of his year. _You_ _freak_.

**5. Wishes.**

"I want you to train me." "If wishes were fishes, baby, this place would reek ta high heaven."

**6. Question.**

The mage grins, showing far too many molars in his mouth and not enough sincerity in his eyes for her comfort; "I won't ask why- I can see in your eyes exactly why- exactly _what_, ta be more specific. Every few decades I get a kid like you- broken and turned out, with too much spare time on their hands and a mind too sharp for their own good."

**7. Neutral.**

Piper keeps her face still as a lake in a forest untouched by man, staring the aged shapeshifter down. "It's yes or no, Arygyn. I don't even know what it is I'm looking for, not exactly- but I know that whatever it is, you can teach it to me."

**8. Share.**

In all of his long life, he'd only taught this skill to a select few- and though his mind told him to be wary, a small, dark portion of him wanted- _needed_- to be spread into a new host. "Well look at you, tryin' ta butter me up so I'll say yes," he says in mock embarrassment.

**9. Breaking.**

It isn't long before she begins to feel the strain- the loneliness- the doubt of whether or not this was all worth the answer she was looking for, and whether or not this answer didn't have a life of its own, and was the type of creature that did not wish for her well-being.

**10. Valiant.**

"Aren't you just a regular little hero," he says to her- she had disappeared for three weeks only to return with some muttered excuse about a terra in trouble and in sore need of volunteers. "Once a Storm Hawk, always a Storm Hawk." _But I'm not going to teach you a damn thing. Not a damn_ _thing_, he thinks to himself while the force inside his dark eyes begs to differ.

**11. Solitary.**

He leaves her alone on an abandoned terra for the first four months- and she passes this _entrance exam _with flying colors.

**-YEAR TWO-**

**12. Victory.**

"Arygyn..."

"Yes, Piper, my Sweet Piece of Pretty Pumpkin Pie?"

Piper does not answer at first- she takes the time to strike a match and light a cigarette, taking a deep inhale before continuing: "I found a book in your library that disturbed me." The cancer stick jiggles up and down with her words, trapped between her thin lips- the bright orange tip waves at him with malicious glee.

"Well, I warned you some of it was a little too much for-"

The cigarette dances, mean-spirited, spitting in his face. "It was the one of Merbian history." Her mellow honey eyes pierce him in an unexpected place- the deep well inside him where he hid his fear. Arygyn can't help but let a small breath of air escape him in shock- that book was under lock and key behind no less than _three _hidden doors and- and-!

(and that was how Piper got the answer to her question).

**13. Worry.**

"So you've figured it out," he says to her, dark eyes solemn, gray lips trembling slightly. "I had hoped to wait a little longer before we... before we begin that training."

**14. Share.**

"Why are you even going to teach me in the first place? It's... dangerous." _You're the grownup_, she means to say. _I'm doing something I shouldn't and god help us, you're teaching me how... but_ _why_? (Arygyn wishes to say the answer to that question but the answer is stuck in his teeth and the thing won't let him speak- and the answer is "The nature of the thing is that it _must _be shared, it must be passed on, it _must_.")

**15. Horizon.**

After Piper has gone to sleep, Arygyn always goes to the highest balcony of his manor- the lonely manor at the top of a craggy, cold mountain- and looks at the sky. One night, when he sees a large, familiar bulky shape blot out the stars, he concocts the most devious idea of getting Piper to 'get out' more often.

**16. Sojourn.**

"Your training officially begins when you gather enough glittersilk for me ta make a new pair of gloves."

"You're joking. Tell me you're joking. Do you know how _rare_-"

"Hey, that cloud looks an awful lot like Jesus on a tortilla, don't it?"

"Arygyn! Pay attention to what I'm saying!"

"No, no, no!" He says all of a sudden, waving his arms. "This can't happen, I'm sorry honey, it's just I have no cheese."

"...What?"

"I have no cheese for that _'whine' _now get your booty moving and get me some glittersilk or I'm not going ta give you a single lesson more!"

**17. Quarrel.**

Well, she finds the glittersilk all right- she finds it in the hands of a god damn jewel thief.

**18. Smirk.**

The grin on that kid's face is almost enough to send Piper into a rage- that is, if Piper hadn't already started to squeeze down hard on the part of her that still felt emotion.

**19. Defeat.**

A single bead of sweat runs down her cheek as she is pressed up against the wall with the thief's dagger tickling her throat- but Piper was never one to accept defeat easily. She snaps her fingers twice, pauses, snaps again. It's a preset code that activates the crystal she wears around her neck (the new one- Lark destroyed the old one the night that the Dark Ace- _Immer, his true name was_, she remembers dizzily, before: _don't think about it_, _don't think about it, don't think about __**her**_) and the blast sends the thief flying back into a solid glass jewelry case of the Shoppe Of Olde Ityms And Misc. Goodes.

**20. War.**

"Oh, it's on now, bitch," the boy spits even as blood cascades down his ripped and torn and shaking body, light green eyes ablaze with hate.

**21. Waltz.**

Piper sees stars, her left eye swells and shuts, but just as she was about to swing back who should waltz into the decimated store like he owns the place but Arygyn, saying, "Jesus Christ, Tern! I said ta rough her up a little, not try ta murder the poor sweetheart!" And the brown haired boy shouts back at him, "Your poor sweetheart just guaranteed me a trip to the ICU to get all this god damn glass outta me!" And he tries to lunge at Piper but Arygyn holds him back while Piper pants and stares at the boy in a new light, trying to make sense of what just happened.

**END OF INTERLUDE I**

**WE RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED MADNESS**

**OoOoOo**

**Glaive**

Unlike so many of our previous meetings, there's no sensation of an electric current running just under the surface of my skin. Still I tense, waiting for an attack, but none is forthcoming. The silence stretches on and on; sometimes I try to search my mind for something to say but it always comes up blank, and more than once I have to sharply command my body to stop _fidgeting_, already. And the snow piles on top of us, and neither of us move- I entertain the fantasy of staying here forever, two monuments staring off into the distance, two strangers with nothing to say.

Thank God for children.

"'Gale!" My head turns sharply at the unfamiliar voice shouting the unfamiliar name. A boy runs up to Lark, obviously flustered as he puts his hands on her lap and gets in her face, almost tripping and falling on top of her. She has to hold onto his shoulders and push him back to steady him- and I realize this must be The Kid- and on the heels of that I realize he looks just like his father. Wild black hair, deep red eyes, hollow cheekbones. But that _nose_, was that nose ever out of place. Probably inherited from his unknown mother.

"Gale, Bruno ate a dead bird again!" he says, grimacing in disgust and distraught.

I smirk at her, at how well she has him trained, not to say her real name in public. "Gale, huh?" I murmur to her.

"Short for Nightingale," she responds, adjusting the boy's hat so that it was firmly and snugly latched onto his head.

"Why the change?"

"Better poet."

The boy gets frustrated with his lack of results, batting Lark's hands away as she tries to button up his coat. "_Ga-ale_!" he whines, pulling on her hands.

She humors him, letting him drag her up to her feet as she says, "All right, all right, I'm up, I'm up." and brushes the snow off of where it had collected on her shoulders. She pauses once, then hands me back my sunglasses. I accept them without thanks. "Well, did you try taking it from him?" she asks the boy now, all her attention on him.

"No, are you crazy? It was dead!"

A helpless smile fights its way to controlling her face. "Then what do you want me to do about it?" she demands. "He's an animal, animals are disgusting; live with it." Perhaps noticing now the way I was watching them- the way I was watching _him_- she then glances at me out of the corner of her eye. Blood red, that eye is. Just like her nephew and late brother. "Now, don't be even more rude than you already have been and introduce yourself to my friend here."

Then they're both looking at me, and the familial resemblance in those distrustful eyes almost blows me away, not that I show it. "Hi," I say to him, when I really want to confront him and say, _So this is the famous Star of Cyclonia, the Dark Ace's son, the last prince, the _only _prince. I gotta say kid you're not exactly what I imagined you would be. When I first heard of the Star, I thought it was a jewel- a crystal- a weapon of unimaginable power- anything but what it turned out to be._

And what he is right now seems to be Lark's nephew. The woman in question pulls her bone-white hair back into a ponytail, hot breath fogging up the air. Then she nudges the boy with her elbow.

"Hi," he says at last, a sudden bout of shyness striking him; his eyes fall to the floor. "My name is Stern Caballe, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

Does he really think that's his name? I accept his outstretched hand and shake it- the grip is firm. "You can call me Glaive," I tell him. "Stern. That's an interesting name- Stern. Glockenchiman in origin, did you know that?"

"Yes. That's where I was born." He looks me in the eyes now, a little warmer to me after his initial _ohgawdwhoisthisstrangewomanstaringatme _reaction. "I can speak a little of it, too, but that's because L- ah- um- Nightingale is teaching me, I don't remember the place where I lived very much- I've been with her and Aerrow since I was three."

"Really now."

"Mm-hmm."

"_Verstehen Sie, wann eine Person Glockenchant spricht_?"

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he looks at Lark. Lark shrugs, so he turns back to me and stammers, "_I- Ich verstehe ein wenig_."

I look to Lark. "Smart kid," I tell her.

She grins at me. "Manipulative, too. Don't let your guard down around him. Bruno!" She suddenly shouts, and I turn my head to see her monstrous attack/guard dog trotting towards us, a few feathers still stuck in his muzzle. "You nasty mutt. I spend good money for dog food and look at what he does, ungrateful mongrel. Heel, boy." There's an explosion of snow as he runs to her and skids to a halt, panting just at her side. She pats his head. "It's time to get going, I think. It was nice seeing you- Glaive. I hope we don't encounter much trouble while working together."

"I think that's a little too much to ask for, don't you?"

Her eyes snap towards me, instantly on alert. _That _was more like old times, and strangely puts me at peace with myself. "Well, I can hope, can't I?" she says at last, rolling her blood-red eyes and walking away with Stern and Bruno in tow.

**OoOoOo**

**Junko.**

Wooden crutches slam down over and over on the steel floors of the _Condor_, the steady rythym of step clomp step clomp letting me know that Finn was coming my way. He's shouting, too. "God damn it, wallop, what have you done with my leg?" he demands as he tries to get into the engine room and has to manuever a way to get in without bumping any hot pipes- he dances around, the stump of his right leg waving around in midair as he looks around for me.

"Down here," I say from where I'm lying on the floor, Stern sitting on my stomach and force feeding me crackers and cookies. Lark reclines nearby, hands behind her head as she watches us.

Finn finally makes his way to our small clearing in the cluttered room, staring down at us. "OK."

"Picnic," Stern explains.

"In the engine room."

Lark shrugs. "Sit down- it's actually quite cool once you get past a certain point."

Finn obeys and plops down on the floor, his crutches going every which way. His lank blond hair- not styled today- ruffles with the breeze from the ventilation system and he makes a small noise of pleasure. "Wow, it's just _perfect _here," he says with amazement, yanking off his scarf and throwing it at Lark. She catches it with one hand before reaching for a cookie. Stern had discovered that, while the rest of the ship was cold from the winter snows, this spot in the engine room was just toasty enough to be comfortable.

Stern grins at me, holding up another cookie. "More?" he asks, and I'm wise to his game.

"No, thanks," I say, and he puts it in my mouth.

He dangles another one over me. "One moooore?"

I'd love to, but I'm still chewing this one. "Mmn- um- sure," I say, and he tosses the cookie to Lark.

"You really need to get to work on more furnace crystals, Lark, the rest of the _Condor _is freezing!" Finn is saying, and I tune into their conversation. "I mean, come on. We hired Ammi-Mano so you'd have more time to do this sort of shit." Stern throws a cookie at him. Hard. "Ow!" It bounces off his head and rolls over to me, where I scoop it off the floor and crunch on it.

The message is clear. _No cursing_.

Lark shakes her head. "I never asked to be _replaced _by that odiferous-"

"Ooh, vocabulary."

"-irritating, overconfident, _bumptious_-" ("Vocabulary!") "-risk-taking fuel-burning drives-like-a-maniac _male._"

Finn grabs a cookie and a sandwhich from the basket on the floor, eating both at once. "Okay, you're a rampaging feminist, we get it. But on a ship crewed by four dudes and a half-dude-" he points at Stern. "You're going to need a better reason for not liking Ammi-Mano just cause of his dangly parts."

"Did you not just hear that obscenely large list of things I don't like about him other than the fact that he's male?"

"What list? All I heard was-" Finn drops his cookie, throwing his arms up in the air and raising the pitch of his voice until he sounded scarily close to what Lark sounds like when she's mad. "_He tries to flirt with me and compliments me when I look nice! I hate men! Men should not look at me as a sex object! Blah blah blah! I want to be a lesbian! I don't like Mano even though he's awesome!"_

"You rang?"

Another head ducks into the engine room, white teeth flashing in a grin. Ammi-Mano has his second eyelids drawn, so that his entire eye looks black, but blinks and pulls them up to look at us better and I can see his bright yellow eye jumping from person to person before settling on Finn. "Hey man, you said you were gonna find your leg and then you just went poof. What's up?"

Finn slaps his forehead. "Oh yeah, that's right. Junk!" He says to me. "Where'd you stash the leg, boy?"

"Msnoshinrom."

"Rephrase that: Swallow first, then tell me where my leg is."

I swallow. "It's not in the engine room," I say. "And that's where I've been all day since we got back from the castle."

"Besides, why would Junko know where it is?" is Lark's reasoning. I try not to make it too obvious, but I'm looking at her and Mano and seeing if they're going to fight or anything. I really don't know what to make of those two. "It's probably in that mess inside your room. What did you do with it after you came back?"

"I took it off, duh. I hate that thing."

"Well then it's obviously in your room, dumbass!"

Stern's aim is something worthy of the Dark Ace's son- he hits Ammi-Mano square between the eyes with the rock holding down the edge of the blanket from flying away with the ventilation. "_Stern_!" Finn, Lark, and I shout at the same time, while Ammi-Mano reels, bumps into a hot pipe, knocks over a box of tools lying on a nearby shelf with his horns, causing a large clunky wrench to fall on his foot, and curses again while hopping away.

Stern throws his hands up to show they were empty, red eyes wide. "I ran out of cookies!"

**OoOoOo**

**Finn.**

"You- I- That-" Lark almost hits an eleven on the Richter scale, red eyes glaring at Stern before she finally finds the right thing to say, jabbing one finger at the doorway to the engine room. "Room. _Now_."

"I didn't mean to-"

"You do not throw rocks at people, Stern! _Especially _not our pilot."

And then it hits me. "Oh, so you _do _care," I say wonderingly, and she turns that glare at me.

"Not now, Finn, I- hey!" she tries to stop him, but Stern had already run out the door faster than Lark could do anything. Boy, those little legs could move when he wanted them to. Accepting the fact that Stern was long gone, Lark makes a disgusted noise deep in her throat and crosses her arms. "Ugh, fine." She shakes her head. "Junko, clean up. Finn- go get your leg. I'm going to check on our pilot."

"Oooh, you _doooo _careee…" I sing again.

"Just because I don't want him dead doesn't mean I like him," Lark says. "What part of _rampaging lesbian feminist _don't you understand?"

I start to mimic her again- ever since I was little I'd been able to copy others, it was just some awesome talent God gave me or something. It helped that Lark's voice was naturally a little deep. "_Oh boy oh boy_!" I screech. "_My name is Lark and I looooove Ammi-Mano! MmMmMm he is just finger-licking goooood_." Lark turns and leaves, but I don't stop. "_Oh Mano, you're sooo dreamy_." And then she's gone and it's no fun anymore.

"Finn, grow up," Junko tells me, picking up the remains of the picnic. I scramble, picking myself up, grabbing my crutches and running out of the room before he asks me for help cleaning and also cause I wanna spy on Lark. The _Condor _isn't that big so I find her and Mano in the kitchen, Lark saying, "-the cabinet, it's under the sink." "Ah man, thanks kid." "Lark." "Right, thanks Lark."

I sidle up next to the door as quietly as I can, carefully cushioning the fall of my crutches so that they don't bang against the floor. It was really sneaky, this system I made up. See, I always make sure to walk really loud with the crutches even though I can go all ninja like this, so people don't know I'm coming till BAM there I am. Lark and Mano are talking- Mano knows her name is Lark, but he knows also that she has a past she'd rather not talk about, and there was a reason why all her legal documents stated that she was Nightingale Caballe.

He, of course, doesn't know that her real name is as far from "Gale" as you could get.

_Skylark Cyclonia._

"Try not to bleed all over the floor, pan, I just mopped it."

The pan in question grumbles- I peek inside and see him leaning over the sink, an open first-aid kit on the counter next to him as he treats the wound on his forehead. Lark watches from a safe distance, arms protectively crossed across her chest. "You got blood on your right horn," she notes.

"I can't see," he says, peering into the mirror that comes with the kit. Then he plasters a bandage between his eyes, turning to face her with a pouting face. "Clean it for me?"

There is a long, long silence after that. Lark doesn't respond well to friendliness, be it flirting or just general niceness, and it is Ammi-Mano's misfortune to be just an all around nice guy. "I'm not happy with Stern for what he did, but that doesn't mean I want to be friends, pan," she said, dripping venom with every word.

I'm pretty sure I'd be sort of insulted if someone were to call me by my species instead of my name, so I choose that moment to jump in with my crutches all a clatter. "_I want to be friends, pan!" _I squee loudly, not using Lark's voice but just a really girly one, waving my body from side to side and jumping towards him with every word, shoving Lark aside until I was hopping right in front of him. "_ManoManoManoMano_! _Can has hugs? Can has hugs_?"

"Yes, you can has hugs."

I shout, "_Yaaayyyyzz_!!" and tackle into him until we're a mess of wood and flesh on the floor, giving Lark time to escape and spare Mano the embarrassment of having to stand in the same room as her after that cold declaration.

Seriously. I have to talk to Aerrow about this.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

Sitting with the leader of the Gladiators- a fellow named Fletch- and with Rave of the Renegades- punk or not, she still had military training and apparently Piper didn't feel like seeing me today- we flesh out the details of our plan. It's pretty straightforward, with the three different ships following a pre-set route. But I don't like that. Stork's paranoia had rubbed off on me, and ever since he left it was up to me to spot out the tricky details no one cared to mention. "The fact that there's recorded evidence of this means that anyone could have traded copies of the maps for a few extra coin on the side," I tell them.

"So you want us to...?" Rave starts.

"Make up a new one?" I venture.

Fletch makes a face, sitting back in his chair with his big bronze hands behind his head. "We start _tonight_," he reminds us. "What do you want us to do, kid- scrap the plan and play it by ear?"

I grin at them. "Works for me."


	3. Mr Pitiful

A/N: Been a while huh? Sorry, real life is a bitch.

"**Oh Mr. Pit- Mr. Pit- Mr. Pitiful who let you down?/ Who let you down? Who let you down?/ You still don't believe, you don't believe, you don't believe, and your grievances show/ when your soapbox unfolds/ So please, come down/ From that cloud you're sitting on/ I don't, expect you to admit you to admit that you were wrong...**

**I just want to know how you've been."**

**- "Mr. Pitiful" by Matt Costa.**

**INTERLUDE II**

**22. Just.**

Arygyn is the type of man who knows the danger of a promise broken- a deal is a deal is a deal and Arygyn is a fair man- when they return to the manor, he tells Tern to lock the two of them in the library and not to open it for three days... no matter what he might hear in that time.

And Piper learns of the merbs' exodus from Terra Tenebria, over four hundred years ago. She learns of their innate talent of sharing knowledge instantaneously- even with non-merbs- and of the medicinal plant merlop, which granted them near-immortality. Then something went wrong. A vision granted in a state of dreaming brought on by merlop caused an epiphany, and this merb reached out and touched another world, entwined with yet distinctly separate from our own. This skill to touch- to see- to hear- to share knowledge instantaneously with_ people who were dead_- this was passed down to other merbs, and eventually to humans.

But to the wrong humans.

And so this is how Piper, four hundred years later, is able to learn how to speak to the dead.

Just like Lark.

**23. Birthday.**

Despite the rough regime he inflicts on her and the promise he made to himself after losing so many students _(they all leave you eventually, old man- time or death or hubris drags them all down to burn in the magma pits that lie just beneath the cloud line_) he can't help but fret about the fact that she doesn't even want a cake- what kind of kid doesn't want a cake?- and then he remembers she's not exactly a kid- not exactly an adult- but gum skippy, he's going to get her a gosh plum cake if its the last thing he does for her _(oh dear lordy there I go again, I'm more morbid than a mess of merbs.)._

**24. Quitting.**

_Giving up already, Glaive? _Tern wonders of Piper as he spies the girl leaving the premise with a leather backpack swinging loosely off one shoulder. He thinks of Piper by her new name, the one that she chose for herself not too long ago. _Yikes, at least the last kid made it to year three_. Strong white teeth punch through the skin of the apple he's eating, grinning and chewing as Piper walks away.

**25. Jousting.**

Piper, however, returns a few scant days later with a friend and a ship: Rave, the bangledon, and _Mercury_, the class B merchant ship refitted to house humans. The second she lands Tern prowls around the manor, itching for a rematch yet unwilling to actually go through with it.

**26. Sorrow.**

Piper forgets that she's not alone in the manor with Arygyn anymore, and unlike him, Rave doesn't understand her need for privacy and Tern even less so. Once, if the urge to cry overwhelmed her Piper could have run just about anywhere to be alone, but now that she has spectators she begins to pull herself back together again.

**27. Nowhere.**

"So," Tern says after repeated threats from Arygyn to be nicer to Piper (or else). "Where did you say you were from, Glaive?" Piper looks at him briefly, adjusts her sunglasses, and resumes cleaning the hull of the _Mercury_.

**28. Jewel.**

Piper's absences increase in frequency, more and more Arygyn hears talk of a 'star' and yet he does nothing, because the thing inside him is not done assimilating with Piper; all he can manage to do right now is teach her, tell her, show her- and day by day, Piper's powers grow stronger.

**29. Stupidity.**

"Arygyn, I- I, uh- I don't know what this word means." Tern might have been clever in his own way, but when Piper saw the boy- young man, really- struggling with illiteracy in the library, the former Storm Hawk felt a strange merge of wicked glee and a sharp tang of sympathy. (_Why hasn't he tried to learn till now_ battles with _I should try and help him_.)

-**Year Three**-

**30. Sarcasm.**

A most unusual friendship struck up between Rave and Tern, and the two were often together; "When's the wedding?" Piper asks, and almost as if they had synchronized it beforehand the pair give Piper the bird.

**31. Quiet.**

Piper has no answer when Arygyn asks her what she's going to do when there's nothing left to teach her. Instead of an answer she has ghosts, who rush forward like the tide when they sense her discomfort and send a soothing chill throughout her body.

**32. Quirks.**

Arygyn holds the weapon up so that he can inspect it. It's a glaive. It's a change in the way Piper wants to do things from now on- rather than a staff, which could incapacitate or stun, the glaive was equipped with an energy blade conduit that was actually sharp and strong enough to be a weapon on its own, without a crystal equipped. "Could you do me a favor and stop calling me Piper?" "Why?" "Just humor me."

**33. Jump.**

"Is Rave single?" Tern wants to know, glancing up at the Bangledon. "Because, as I believe the saying goes, _I'd tap that_." Glaive and Tern are mopping- the manor doesn't clean itself, you know- and Glaive gives Tern the oddest look before splashing him with a bit of dirty water. "Hands off my cat girl," she says.

**34. Near.**

Piper- _Glaive_- snaps into wakefulness when she feels the soft velvet flicker of Rave's ears against her cheek; the bangledon had snuck into her bed and was cuddled up next to her like a child.

**35. Blessing.**

Rave practices with her slingshot and spars with Tern, getting a few pointers now and then from Arygyn himself. An hour in, Glaive suddenly blurts, "What did your father look like?" Because she has seen the shadow of a male full-blooded, white-furred bangledon standing just by, ephemeral and faint.

**36. Nuance.**

For the most part it's easy to use the skill Arygyn taught her- like riding a bicycle, only the bicycle followed her around wherever she went and sometimes tried to attack her.

**37. Virtuous.**

" So like, _never_, ever?" Tern asks her, leaning on his mop and staring at Glaive. "Never, ever," Glaive answers. Tern shakes his head, wringing out the mop and complaining loudly: "God, I feel like such a slut now- then again, you are only, what is it, eighteen?" "Nineteen." "Ah," Tern says. "Of course."

**38. Weddings.**

A cake and a white dress. When Glaive pulls out photos of her mother's wedding to her good-for-nothing father, she begins to realize just what she's gotten herself into as every passing day living with the dead drives her further away from childhood dreams and innocence and- _screw it, the prince never did rescue her from her tower, did he? He just watched her fall deeper into madness._

**39. Whiskey and Rum.**

"Hey, kiddo." Glaive looks up from her book to see Rave and Tern leaning against the doorframe, grinning at her. "All work and no play makes Glaive a dull girl."

**OoOoOo**

**WE RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED MADNESS**

**OoOoOo**

Everyone would remember a golden age, where anything was possible and the valiant though troubled Storm Hawks would fight the Cyclonian Empire like beacons of light against an ever-encroaching darkness.

In the Age of Sorrows it was not so.

The Cyclonian Empire and the threat of a new dark age vanished, only to be replaced by this pervasive gray _cloud_... Evil had new names. They were harder to fight than the Dark Ace had been. Evil had a new nature less easy to grasp than a Talon's throat.

(a bell rings)

Nobody knew how it happened, but when all the tyranny had left the land, so had the heroes, and in this world black and white had collapsed, and iconoclasts were God.

(a boy sings)

In a World of Darkness they had been born, in an Age of Heroes they had thrived, and now in an world of shifting grays this is what the Storm Hawks have become in order to survive: Bounty hunters (and hunted themselves), black market dealers (and buyers), members of the natural hierarchy of dog eat dog (but hierarchy is a shaky thing to trust), lovers and haters (beloved and loathed).

Everyone is broken.

But the pieces, they fit so well with everyone else's, don't they?

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow**

I step through the doors to the bridge, where Finn, Ammi-Mano, and Junko had started up a game of poker in my absence. The meeting had taken up most of the afternoon and some of the night- in short, a lot of bickering and a lot of issues that took a while to be resolved. "Well, I'm back," I pronounce, letting Radarr jump off my shoulder onto the table, where he situated himself on Junko's lap to help him out, since he was the worst poker player to hit the tables. "I also brought back our guest."

Everyone looks up at that, the game forgotten as I step to the side to let the Duchess enter the room. Her resemblance to Perry is unmistakable, with dark skin and orange eyes, but her hair is a long, shining white, and she's much, much taller. There's a scraping and squealing of chairs as the boys all stand up and try to greet themselves at the same time, and the Duchess laughs.

"Well, aren't you all nice and polite when I'm pretty?" she demands, putting her hands on her hips and winking at Finn. He blinks at her in confusion, and I bite back a smirk.

Lark walks into the bridge just then, her arms full of maps and charts. Bruno trots along at her heels, rubbing against her leg like a cat before settling down on the floor next to the table. Barely sparing a glance at the Duchess, Lark dumps her load into Junko's arms and whirls to me, arms crossed. "Is there a reason Rave is using such a horrible disguise? I'm offended by the very presence of that stubby rock she's wearing."

Everyone looks at the Duchess with new eyes. "_Rave_?"

She waves at them. "Hey guys!"

"Help me plot a course," is Lark's only comment, and that's to Ammi-Mano, taking one of the maps from Junko and shoving aside the chips and cards to unroll the map. Ammi-Mano hesistates before doing as she asks. Radarr collects all the pieces before they're lost to the ship and Finn stares at Rave in disguise.

"Oh come on, I know Her Grace is hot and all but you're really making me jealous, honey."

Finn, however, is still skeptical. "Is it really you?" he asks, taking a few cautious steps towards her.

Rave smirks. "Philanthropist," she says.

Huh? I look to Finn but he had started laughing, apparently at some inside joke Rave had made. I made a mental note to pry the secret from him later, when we were on the move and the long flight became boring. "Come on, Rave, take off the rock, I wanna see you!" Finn is whining now, grabbing at her upper arm and shaking her.

"Yes, please, take off the rock and throw it in the garbage disposal," Lark shudders.

"You're our decoy?" Junko wonders.

Rave nods, ignoring Finn. "Yep. The princess and I are the same height, and chroma crystals can only change appearances so far, you know?"

Finn whines louder. "Raaaave! I haven't seen you in a month, I wanna _seeeee_ youuu!" He clings to her, pouting.

Rave points to a ruby pendant she's wearing, the chroma crystal in disguise itself. "I can't take this off in public, Finn," she reminds him. "I'm on duty."

"Well, my room is nice and private..."

Oh, awkward. I quickly look away and make myself busy helping Radarr clean up the mess. Out of the corner of my eye I see Lark making a gesture to Junko with her back turned to the pair, sticking one finger down her throat like she was trying to make herself hurl. Junko covers his mouth and starts laughing.

"Maybe later," Rave/Duchess says, "Right now... uh..." she turns to Lark. "Uh, "Gale", right?" she asks.

"You can call me Lark while we're on the _Condor_," Lark says, another rolled up map cradled in her arms, her white hair bundled on top of her head to keep from falling into her eyes.

"Right well, whoever you are, make sure you map out Terra Skinner and Jung as our pit stops, huh?"

"Got it."

Rave smiles at her, a little guarded but not cold. "Now all we need is to contact Glaive and Tern and- whaaa!"

Everyone sort of sighs and shuffles uncomfortably or shoots each other knowing grins when Finn grabs Rave and drags her to his room, saying, "No more waiting."

"All right, all right, I'm going, I'm going! Aerrow, tell Glaive when we take off, kay?"

"Uh, sure." I'm not sure if I should stop them or not. "Just uh... d-don't take off the chroma crystal...?" I finish weakly as the doors to the living quarter's section of the ship slam shut before my words are done.

Lark was one of the sigh-shuffle ones. "I _really_ hope they're not going to do what I think they're going to do."

I shrug. "They're both adults?"

Her reply is stiff. "Neither of them are mature enough for a sexual relationship," is her final opinion on the matter. Perhaps alarmed by her tone of voice, Bruno lifts his head and focuses on her, his tail wagging uncertainly. She bends over and pats him on the head to let him know everything was all right, murmuring, "At ease."

"Hey, hey now." Ammi-Mano nudges her in the stomach with his tail when she returns to the table. "Just cause you don't like guys doesn't mean you can go trying to convert everyone to lesbianism."

She shoots him a nasty glare and slaps his tail away. "This ship has thin walls," she tells him. "And I like it when it's nice and quiet and I don't want to have nightmares or disturbing images running through my head, I'm enough of a psychopath as it is, thanks."

Then Junko says, "If I were a girl, I'd be a lesbian," as though trying to reassure her or something. I start to laugh, and he can only shrug in confusion when Lark stomps to the wheel and the _Condor_ takes off.

**OoOoOo**

**Finn.**

I let Rave lock the door and turn on the lights while I shut all the windows. Turning around, I see her touch the chroma crystal and revert back to her normal self, wearing a long t-shirt over the blue pants to her old uniform. I don't waste much time after that, bouncing over to her and tugging at her shirt, saying, "I wanna see, I wanna see, I wanna seeeee!"

She yelps tugging her shirt back down and backing away from me like I'm a serial rapist. "Yikes, Finn, what are you doing?"

I throw my arms up in the air, frustrated almost beyond words now. "I want to see the new _tattooooooooooo_!" I howl, stomping my real foot because my fake one might just pop off if I handle it too roughly and that would suck some major ass.

"Ohhh," she says, slapping a palm against her forehead. "I thought you wanted to see the pictures from the LT concert."

"Those too!" I start to bounce again as she turns around and lifts up her shirt enough to expose the tattoo on her shoulder blade. "Oooh," I croon jealously, stepping forward and touching the design. It's of a heart torn down the middle, one side red and one side black. It was stitched back together only halfway. There's a few other smaller designs around it, bangledon symbols that don't make any sense, and some natural things like the sun and the moon in black ink. It was a little large as far as designs go, but not nearly as big as the one I had planned for myself. Wrapping my arms around her waist and yanking her to me, I say, "God, I love you."

She lets the shirt go to raise her arms and reach behind her, wrapping them around my neck. "We should get matching tattoos."

"Matching tattoos are right alongside getting someone's name- it's like a curse to kill the relationship."

"OK, OK, but we should do _something_."

A sudden memory strikes me. "Oh, I did kind of do something- not for you though." Letting her go, I pull down the neck of my uniform to show her the Storm Hawks symbol on my chest, right over my heart.

She grins. "Cool. Wish the Renegades had a symbol... I'd totally get it in a tattoo. And how 'bout your 'masterpiece', made any progress?"

I don't want to tell her that I'm not ready to show anybody yet, so I just tap her forehead to remind her why we're here. "Pictures?" I demand.

That didn't fool her, though. "Masterpiece," she demands in turn.

I cross my arms. "Pictures," I say again.

"Tattoo."

"Concert."

"Tattoo."

"Concert."

"Masterpiece."

"Pictures."

"Make out?"

I blink arms falling to my sides in surprise. She tilts her head to the side, grinning at me. Then I grab her by her belt loops, pulling her against me. "...Evil woman."

"Why thank you," she purrs, hands running through my hair.

**OoOoOo**

**There's A Very Pretty Blue Button Right Under This**


	4. Breaking Rules

**"And I am not afraid to die; I'm not afraid to bleed and fuck and fight... Love is not like anything_,_ ESPECIALLY A FUCKING KNIFE!"**

**-"I'm A Fake" by The Used.**

"**A woman may very well form a friendship with a man, but for this to endure, it must be assisted by a little physical antipathy."**

**- Friedrich Nietzsche**

**OoOoOo**

**The Interlude: The Other Side**

**100 Themes For the Time In-Between**

**OoOoOo**

**- YEAR FIVE-**

**1. Wings.**

_The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls._

Aerrow, Sky Knight and leader of the Storm Hawks, gingerly crawls to the edge of the cliff, the lenses in his peepers focusing in on the activity below him. They had been tracking this particular bandit group from one dusty nothing terra to the next, where the sun always beat down without mercy and the nights were full of natural peril that the wildlife here only contributed to.

**2. Box.**

_He watches from his mountain walls._

And bingo, there it is- the stolen treasure from Terra Xoam. Ripe for the taking- not to mention the bounty Aerrow would receive when he turned in the bandits in question.

**3. Hurricane.**

_And like a thunderbolt he falls._

After this, it is only a matter of giving the signal; pulling a bright red handkerchief from his pocket, he wraps it around a mini floater crystal Lark had designed- he whispers instructions to it and the bright banner zoom down to the camp site, flying and flapping just above the confused pirates' heads.

_Crack._

Aerrow does not hear the shot but he hears the bandit's skull fracturing, even from his vantage point. Standing up and running back to where he had parked his skimmer, he hops on board and Radarr (who had been waiting in the co-pilot seat) revs the engine and he screams down onto the campsite, pulling his massive two-handed battlesword from where it is strapped on his back, and those who do not recognize the sword as belonging to the Dark Ace himself recognize the insignia on his chest plate- _Storm Hawk_.

**4. Eclipse.**

He stands over the leader, the energy of his red blade humming just under the man's chin- the rest of the bandits are incapacitated and moaning on the ground. Aerrow is shaking with rage because the Storm Hawks have also suffered a casualty- Junko holds Lark as she stares, white-faced, at the jumping, spurting arterial blood that falls from the wound on her leg. Then she looks up, her irises nothing more but a crimson ring around her pupils, and whispers, "P-_Piper_…?"

_Shhhp._

Out of nowhere, a glaive flies and aims true, immersing itself in the bandit's neck and half severing it. Aerrow looks up as well as a shadow covers him and there is Piper- _Piper_- literally floating in midair.

**5. Mask.**

He cannot see her eyes for the thick sunglasses she's wearing- or the stern set of her lips because of the thin silk scarf she has wrapped around her nose and mouth to protect her from the scorching sun and fine desert sand- and maybe that's a good thing.

**6. Gravity.**

"Keep the treasure," she says, holding out one hand. The glaive in the man's throat quivers and shakes, severing the head completely from the neck before wrenching free and flying back to her hand where she catches it with ease and straps it to her back. "Keep the others- but the chieftain and the bounty on his head is mine, got it?"

Almost in accord with her words, a slim pink-and-black shape on a hover-board zooms up. Rave scoops the bandit chieftain's head before flipping the nose of her board so it flies, completely vertical, to where Piper awaits. She tosses the head up and Piper catches that too, holding it by the hair before turning her back on the Storm Hawks and flying away.

**7. Farewells. **

Rave hesitates, looking at them over her shoulder before giving them a sad little half-salute, half-wave and following Piper.

**8. Lies.**

"It made you mad that he hurt Lark," Rave says to her when they stop to rest on a nearby terra. "Talk to me when you have something interesting to say, Rave," Glaive snaps back, yanking the scarf from her face and tossing it on the ground with disgust.

**9. Memory.**

The moment she regains consciousness Lark clumps through the _Condor_'s hallways on her newly patched leg, seeking Aerrow; When she finds him she says, "She wasn't a hallucination… was she?"

**10. Fever.**

Her laugh is not normal, and neither is the bright gloss that covers her eyes- "It's me, you know. I'm the one who made her leave, who made her want to learn how to… oh God… Aerrow… _she can hear them_." She collapses into his arms and he feels her forehead, flinching at the heat radiating from it.

**11. Ring.**

Lark paces the bridge, listening to Junko where he sits at the meeting table, reciting poetry from a book he had found amongst Lark's old things. "Um…" The wallop tilts his head. "So the poem is about a ring?"

"Yes, Junko," she says, sighing deeply. "The poem is about a ring."

"But what does it _mean_?"

"It means John Donne was a flaming emo sob story with too much free time on his hands. So read another poem to me, Junko, darling."

"Ummm…" he flips through the pages until he comes across one he likes.

**12. Dream.**

"Finn, I'm going to assume you haven't forgotten the vision you had when you were in that coma?"

Finn slams the mop down on the floor, seemingly fascinated by the process of cleaning the hangar bay.

"…Arygyn taught her something he shouldn't have," Lark says, and when Finn looks up at her he is disturbed by the fact that they are not red, but deep, solid black.

**13. Lock.**

Lark wants nothing more than to go to her room- Stork's old room, as fate would have it- and not come out until she felt less like the insane I-Hear-Voices-From-Inside-My-Head freak that she was, but life demanded that she be a part of it. "Lark?" Stern, her young nephew and charge, knocks on her door, reminding her that it is time for his daily crystal lessons. "Lark?" Finn, her psycho-buddy (he can see the future and she can talk to ghosts, who the fuck _ELSE _are they going to go to when things get weird?), demands that she come and listen to a new song that he wrote. "Larrrrrk?" Junko, her friend, wants to know if she needed her book back because he was done with it.

"Lark, _enough_. Please."

She opens the door, glaring at Aerrow because he is the only one who can ever make her open it with only one word.

**14. Midnight.**

Late that night, when she manages to extricate herself from her nephew's clinging arms (how did he manage to sneak into her bed without her noticing? The poor kid must have had another night terror…) she finds Aerrow at the helm, and wishes she could see Stork standing next to him but Stork is dead and is never coming back and she never thought it would bother her as much as it does.

**15. Talk.**

Lark's relationship with Aerrow- if what they had could be considered that, since they were both hurting too much from respective and various heart-aching conditions to want things to get complicated again- was based entirely on the fact that she could tell him anything, and vice-versa.

The only taboos were her husband's name, and Piper's absence.

**16. Hero.**

"It's kind of weird to think five years ago all I needed to do to become a hero was put your head on a spike, and yet here we are, and I just made a mug of hot cocoa for you."

"Kind of weird," she repeats, blandly. "Right."

"Well, it's true."

"I've already come to terms with the fact that we're allies now. This is something of a delayed reaction from you, Aerrow. But you want to know what's even weirder than what you just said?"

"What?"

"Five years ago, the term _hero _was relative to which country you were born in; now it doesn't seem to exist at all."

**17. Drink.**

"Quit being depressing and drink your cocoa," he says, trying to sound disgusted.

**18. Whisper.**

Silence reigns supreme, but it's not uncomfortable- it rarely is, with Aerrow. And yet she has to break it anyway, and murmur, "…I miss her."

**19. Hope.**

"She might never be a Storm Hawk, or live here, ever again, but I know that Piper misses us too, and one day we'll be able to see eye to eye again."

Or so he hopes.

**20. Formal.**

The next morning on the _Condor _is business as usual, and if Lark ever admits to having broken the Piper taboo and almost seeing Aerrow as more than a leader or a surrogate brother or even a very distant cousin- well, she doesn't dwell on it, because at this point in her life she is _so _far beyond regrets it isn't even funny.

Not bad for only two decades of being alive.

**21. Ice.**

They bump into her again- how on Atmos did they manage to bump into her again?- but the fact remains that when the Storm Hawks and The Renegades meet, the reaction is almost always chilly at best.

**22. Fire.**

Glaive sees the way Aerrow and Lark look at each other and it stirs something deep inside her she thought she had left behind when she jumped ship and formed her own squadron- what this stirring thing's name was she was not certain, but she knew that it _burned_.

**23. Silence.**

They part without saying a word, Rave and Tern exchanging worried glances and the Storm Hawks trying to avoid Aerrow's eyes.

**24. Unknown.**

"Have time for a little morning sparring, Aerrow?"

His eyebrows quirk upwards to acknowledge her but he doesn't look up from the book he's reading. "Mm, yeah, sure," he mumbles, and then jumps, startled, when she decides that sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck is a more effective way of getting his attention. She swings her legs and grins at him, wondering if he would bolt and knock her to the floor, or if he would stay there and let her tease him some more.

**25. Body.**

Oddly enough, it's because she feels no sexual attraction to him whatsoever that she enjoys being close to him physically. With one hand on his chest, she feels queer at the solidity of it. Men were built very differently than women. It didn't help that Aerrow was built like a brick wall. Neither of them have said anything for quite a while but instead look into each other's eyes, quietly contemplating what they should do next. It never occurred to her that Aerrow might not feel the same way about being so close- he had been brought up mostly within the norms of society, which didn't have boys interacting much with girls outside of romantic relationships. Lark grew up secluded from everyone else, which didn't have her interacting much with people period. There were few precedents of role models for female-male friendships for either of them. They had nothing to go by except what Piper and Aerrow had had, and there was no way Lark could ever fill that space where the dark-skinned girl had stood.

"I'm not her, you know," she says, a warning deep in her blood red eyes as she breaks the taboo once more.

Aerrow shakes his head. "She was my sister," he says.

Lark has nothing to say to that, since in her experience a brother is not necessarily a good thing to be, and a sister less so. Lark rests her head against the part where his neck met his shoulder.

"What are you _doing_?"

They twitch as Finn walks into the kitchen; naturally it is Lark who reacts first. "We're cuddling," she informs the sharpshooter. "You should try it more often, maybe then you'd get a girlfriend who doesn't hang out with lesbians all day."

**OoOoOo**

**WE RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED MADNESS.**

**OoOoOo**

**Lark**

Every time something happens- every time we open the cupboards only to find that we're running low on supplies and we're five weeks away from the nearest Terra and we're dying of hunger- every time the toilet overflows and someone has to clean it up and "man it's sure as hell not me"- every time Stork's birthday rolls around- they all look at me. Sometimes it's in unison. Sometimes it's separately. But the expression is always the same- the same raised eyebrows, mouth set in a straight, even, neutral line. Almost expressionless. Except not. They always ask me with their eyes-

_Why are you here?_

_Why are you here when you had servants who would get on all fours for you to sit on their backs if you were tired? Why settle for stale macaroni and cheese when you ate three course meals provided by the greatest chefs money could hire? Why are you here when we were the ones who took away all of that? Why are you here, with us, fighting with us, living with us, maybe one day dying with us? Why do you stay? Why did you do it? Why did you stay, and why did they have to leave?_

I wish I knew the answer. Perhaps on some level I do.

_I do it because I'm bored. I stay because I like it here. I do it because I crave turmoil and probably always will, because I'm sick that way. She left because they died. Does that answer your questions? Can we kindly get back to work now?_

Only those aren't the answers. Not really. Maybe. The clouds dissipate before me, revealing clear blue Atmosian skies. Two hands grip the steering wheel, not mine- Ammi-Mano. I don't like him at all, even if he is a nice guy. I don't _need_ a replacement. We don't _need_ another pilot. _I'm_ the pilot. I'm _not_ too busy being the on board crystallographer and taking care of the kid.

Maybe.

Three days after Rave boarded and we reach the first pit stop- Terra Skinner. It's here that we're to have the first switch. Tail undulating behind him, Mano steers in for a smooth landing, either not perturbed by my eyes burning holes into his back or oblivious to it. Finn and Rave in disguise stand on the ramp that leads outside, him wearing his fake leg so that he could hold both of her hands with his, no crutches in the way.

"I'll see you soon," Rave reassures him, touching his face. He pouts. She laughs, lets go of his hand by throwing it aside, and walks away. "Grow up!"

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn my head to see Ammi-Mano's furry tail. It slaps against my nose before retreating behind his back, safe from where I couldn't chop it off. Bruno looks at it, considering, but then apparently decides against it and plops himself over my feet like he wouldn't make them fall asleep that way. Giving Mano a cold look, I tell myself I'm not going to ask what he wants.

"What is it now, pan?"

God damn it.

He nods over his shoulder at the inside of the _Condor_. "Have you ever noticed how once you hit a certain speed she starts to veer left?"

"Yeah..."

"Well.. Can't we do something about that? We're here until midnight, might as well get some work done on the bird."

Bruno huffs from where he lies at my feet, and I say, "No."

"Oh.. uh.. have you... tried?"

"Again, no. She's a wonky ship and we like her that way."

Blinking, his second eyelids fall down to cover his eyes in solid black. "OK..."

I smirk. "You're new here," I tell him, wishing he was smaller and I was taller so that I could pat his head condescendingly. As it is I'd have to get up on the tips of my toes and he would have to bend over for me to do that, and I'm not about to go out of my way when I'm still tired from chasing Stern around the _Condor_. "But you should get used to the way of things soon."

"If she doesn't kill you before then," Aerrow adds as he walks past us, arms full of spare parts for his skimmer.

And, you know, I'm not sure if he's joking or not.

**OoOoOo**

**Five Days Later**

**Glaive.**

Now, I don't know when this started, but Tern and Rave have a bad habit of sneaking into my bed at night to cuddle- often at the same time. So when I woke up from my nap, I noticed three things:

One: The ship's engines were rumbling, and we were headed in a decidedly downwards direction.

Two: There were currently two beautiful women cuddled up next to me who looked exactly alike, and so I couldn't tell which was Tern and which was Rave.

Three: If the fake Duchesses were in fact Tern and Rave (and it had to be, since I doubted the real Duchess would be this cozy with me) _who in God's holy name was flying the ship?_

"Getoffgetoffgetoff!" I shriek, shoving both the Duchesses off of me and scrambling towards the bridge, slipping and sliding on the metal floor in my socks. I hear some faint complaining behind me, someone's body hitting the floor, but I don't care. What on earth had-?

I skid to a halt, almost crashing into the one who, in God's holy name, is flying the ship. Tail snapping once in annoyance, Repton looks over his shoulder at me, single good eye glaring. "What?" he demands in a low growl.

I blink.

"Never seen a one-eyed raptor before?"

"Uh... hi."

He sneers, repeating the same words in a mocking tone. "Hi." And then, only a few seconds later- "Oh god, it's the harem," he mumbles before turning to steer the ship again. I look over my own shoulder to see the two Duchesses giving me twin expressions of mischief from the doorway.

Turning around, I put my hands on my hips. "Whichever one of you is Tern had better shift back right now and explain why _he-_" I point to Repton. "-is here."

"Rave's going to be gone half the time," the Duchess on my right says. "We might need some backup for muscle and night shifts. Seeing as how our scaly friend here owes you a favor, I figured he fit the bill. I also happen to be quite comfortable in this shape, thanks, so I'll be staying in it for as long as I please."

"There's only two Duchess decoys, and you're not one of them." I snap open a compartment near the wheel, pulling out my sunglasses and slipping them on with a sigh. "Please try to act- and think- like a professional, Tern. If there's two Duchesses on board-"

"Our imaginary assailants are going to get suspicious?" she drawls, one arm resting on Rave's shoulder, bumping her head against the other Duchess'. "We're putting an undue amount of effort into a simple transportation mission."

"Yes," I agree before walking up to her and taking her hand- only to yank off the ring she wears on the index finger of her right hand. The change is dramatic- instead of the dark-skinned Duchess, Tern ripples into form before me, making a loud noise of complaint and reaching for the ring. She's still female, but at least she's Tern. "And we're getting paid an exorbitant amount to do so," I remind her, tossing the ring over my shoulder when Tern tried to snag it again. The corners of my shades have small mirrors in them, so I see Repton's tail whip out, the very tip of it sneaking through the loop of the ring and curling tight so that it couldn't escape.

There's a pause.

"Also, can I ask why you currently have boobs, Mr. Skeelur?"

"Arygyn is mad at me."

"Well that leaves me with more questions than answers, you know."

Tern shrugs. I'm done with her for now, though, so I just turn my back on her and focus on Repton. "Are you going to die on me halfway through the mission?" I have to ask him. "You shouldn't be here, you know. It's winter here. How on earth did you-?"

With one clawed hand, Repton pulls on a thick, gray metal chain he's wearing around his neck, displaying the furnace crystal hooked to it. It's crudely made, and the furnace crystal is huge, but I can see how it makes up in usefulness what it lacks in style. Curious, I reach out with one hand, quirking my eyebrows up at him for permission. He shrugs, so I touch the flesh of his forearm, feeling it dry and warm with crystal generated heat.

"I set him up with some bling," Rave explains, poking me in the ribs.

Repton's tail twitched, still with a death grip on Tern's special ring. "...Don't call it that."

"My only regret is that I couldn't find a big gold chain to make it even more fabulous."

Tern grabs Rave's arm, pulling her back. "Enough, enough," she says. Being actually a little more mature than Rave, she helps me reign her in when she gets wild. That is, when Tern isn't in the mood for a little trouble as well. So now we have- well, he couldn't be called a pilot. He's more just someone to hold the wheel. We have a wheel-holding block that doubles as a fighter, a Skeelur in training, me, and a jungle cat with authority issues.

....Good God, this is depressing.

I lower my glasses, looking over at Rave. "I think we need a bigger ship," I tell her.

She tilts her head, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"Because we need a bigger crew."


	5. Settle for Satin

**"It's not so much a storm/ But just a cloud that lives inside of me/ He doesn't stir so easily/ These days/ But when he wakes he goes the distance."**

**-"Settle for Satin" by Alkaline Trio**

**A/n: I fail at writing, forever and ever and ever, please take this offering.**

**OoOoOo**

Piper knew what she wanted to do hadn't changed in the last five years. She'd given it thought. Thinking was the only thing she _had _done in the last five years, or so she felt. Every path taken, not taken, and those yet to come marched across her vision like a newsfeed everytime she closed her eyes. Going to school again, or staying here, or getting a bigger ship, or approaching Repton about a more permenant plan.

School, more than anything else, bothered her. It was something she'd wanted, something she'd needed once, but something she wasn't sure was open to her anymore. The environment of a classroom didn't appeal to her the same way it once had. Rather than seeing them as little pools of knowledge, she saw them now as a cage designed to force her to interact with other people again, and become a normal, functioning citizen. She didn't want that, because that meant helping herself.

And what Piper wanted to do- had always wanted to do- was to help everyone else.

There was a shift on the cramped bed. One long leg snaked on top of hers, under the blankets, possessive and perhaps a bit seductive. Tern's arms wrapped around her shoulders and she pressed her face against the spot between Piper's shoulder blades. "Squish," she said, reaching one hand down to squeeze her belly. Admittedly there wasn't much to grab, but it _tickled_. Piper twitched, choking down a squeal, and Tern laughed. However, her face turned solemn in an instant when Piper wriggled around to face her, bloodshot eyes tired and serious.

Tern said, ""Please tell me you at least tried to sleep last night."

A typical Piper response: "I tried." Stretching, she slipped Tern's arms off of her so that she could stand up and get to work.

**OoOoOo**

**INTERLUDE**

**-YEAR FOUR-**

**40. Waste/Wasteland.**

This night always puts her right back to square one: desperate and tear-filled.

Piper takes a swig of leftover whiskey and sits on the edge of Arygyn's secret terra, legs dangling over the Wasteland below. Every year on this day she always remembers, takes off her gloves and lets the moonlight shine on the horrible scars and pock marks. The blast from the final blow that killed Nova had affected her and Lark the most- Lark with chunks of Oblivion stone cutting through her face and neck... and Piper's hands... beautiful slender little things. Once she'd read that surgeons needed sensitive fingertips. She wondered, brain sloshing around her booze-filled skull, if they were still sensitive enough to do something like that. Everything seemed muted, and it wasn't just the liquor taking effect. Things just felt different after that final battle for Atmos, and she'd had to re-learn how to touch. She touches her necklace now, a new one crafted by Rave, feels the wood of the unfamiliar bangledon symbol Rave also had tattooed on her back. Just like she always does on this night, she contemplates suicide, and she weeps at the fact that even Stork's ghost cannot be reached by her, that her new powers are wasted, that her life is meaningless- but she's not ready to take that plunge into the Wastelands, not yet, and she probably never would be.

**41. Breathing. **

_Now I know what you meant, Lark. There's always something left, even when it doesn't feel that way. Here I am, just like you, just as fucked- and yet I can't bring myself to let go. Can't stop- _

_Living._

**42. Natural**_**.**_

The bottle tumbles from her uncovered fingers, numb from the cold of the winds that howl on the edge of the terra. Miraculously it does not break on impact and nature does not kill it at once. It manages to bounce twice before it shatters into a million green shards that sparkle all the way down until the clouds become too thick for Piper to see any more.

Then she goes to bed.

**43. Bias.**

Glaive is startled to one day hear Tern and Arygyn arguing loudly- "Of course you don't like it, you want me to become some sort of animal!" That deep voice is Tern, accusing their teacher. Arygyn responds, "At least an animal is a useful shape ta have- what the hell is _this_?"

**44. Balloon.**

It's as though someone's punctured her lungs. Honey gold eyes stare unblinkingly at the shape that Tern finally mastered after over fifteen years of studying on and off with Master Arygyn- a complete, totally real, absolutely feminine version of himself. "Hello, kiddo," Tern says to her, her teeth bared in a cheeky grin. "This is only the beginning- Arygyn says it's going be like a snowball and I'll have three more shapes before the next- hey, where you going?" "I… I think I need a moment to get used to this.. E-excuse me…"

**45. Balcony.**

Eyebrows furrow upon seeing the title of the book- "Can you actually read that?" Glaive demands, all cool skepticism poured into a streamlined body. She leans against the mop, one hip jutted out, and Tern's response is short, and obviously angry for many reasons one of them being the way the small of Piper's back seems to simply disappear into her ass. "It comes and it goes." "What do you mean, it comes and goes?" Tern snaps _Romeo and Juliet_ shut, shouting, "Sometimes I can read and sometimes I cannot, all right? Leave me alone!" and perhaps it is an understatement to say that Glaive just touched a nerve.

**46. Belief.**

"Apologize," Arygyn demands of the pair, who hadn't so much as looked at each other in weeks.

**47. Serenade.**

Fingers dance across the acoustic guitar's strings, and Glaive closes her eyes and listens to Rave play; female Tern surprises them by knowing the lyrics- her eyes catch Piper's at one point in the song and they both look away, faintly disturbed.

**48. Sordid.**

Late one night, lying face up on the floor of the training room and exhausted from a hard day's work, Tern slides closer to Glaive- to Piper- and takes the girl's hand. He pulls the glove off finger by finger. The girl says nothing, not even when the moonlight hits the map of scars and lines- not even when Tern presses Piper's ruined fingertips against a spot to feel his own scar hiding behind his long brown hair.

**49. Soliloquy. **

"Well yes, there you go," Tern says. "That is why I'm vocabularyalistically challenged." "Verbally," she says. "NO, it's _vocabularyalistically_!" and there's a pregnant silence before they both start to howl with laughter.

**50. Bane.**

Rave can't stand being with Arygyn for too long, partly because he scares the bangledon out of her and partly because he is just so _annoying_. How Tern and Pi- _Glaive _can manage having him around all the time is beyond her comprehension. Rave herself is left to do as she pleases and often leaves the manor to visit the Storm Hawks and the Giants, wherever in Atmos they may be, and give them updates on how Glaive is doing. They don't understand why their navigator hasn't come home yet- not even Rave knows the true nature of Arygyn's training and how shape shifting is just the tip of the supernatural iceberg- but she does know that Piper's talents have doubled, _tripled_, ever since she left the others behind.

Lark corners her on one of these visits, causing the cat-girl's hair to stand on end. Sure, Lark was technically a Storm Hawk now, but the fact remains that Nova had been her husband- Emperor and Empress. The thought that one day Lark might turn against Atmos and the Storm Hawks again was always present in Rave's mind. "How is she?" she demands, never being one for tact. "What's she been doing?"

Rave wants to say "what do you care?" but she knows better than to do that. "She… well, she gave up her search for the Star when she found out you got to it first," Rave ends up saying. "She's crazy good with crystals now, almost at your level. She likes to be called 'Glaive'. Not much else to say other than that- she stays with Arygyn and another apprentice named Tern all day long and trains like a mad woman, but pretty soon we're going to head on out and try to see if we can't form a squadron on our own- she wants to hit the skies again."

Red eyes narrow, and Lark's tone of voice goes positively sulky. "There's space on the _Condor_," she says. "And a perfectly good squadron right here."

"She knows."

There is a long pause before Lark speaks again, rolling up her sleeves as she did so. "Well, when you see her again, tell her just because she can't have _my _Star doesn't mean she shouldn't stop looking for them altogether." She pulls her white hair back into a ponytail and turns around, her footsteps echoing loudly on the _Condor's _metal floors. "Stars die and are born every day. Now if you will excuse me I have a dog that needs bathing."

Shaking her head in bemusement, Rave looks after her walking away for a moment before finding the rest of the _Condor's _crew and submitting herself to further interrogation on Piper's well-being.

**OoOoOo**

**Lark**

Aerrow smiles at me, rueful and a little embarrassed. I don't say anything, but he feels the need to explain himself. "Klockstopia was always really weird," he says. "I guess I should have known better than to think the Duchess would really be in danger."

Junko speaks up from where he sits on the couch, greasing the gears and polishing the metal of his knuckle busters. "What's a favor to a friend? At least Perry could rest, knowing the Duchess was in safe hands."

Setting my glass of water down on the table, I sit down next to Aerrow. I curl my legs up under me, long white hair falling into my face. No matter how many times or any way I put it up, gravity always works against me. "Ah, the usual dose of simple wisdom from our resident warrior poet." Aerrow absentmindedly pushes my hair behind my ear. "Thank you," I murmur, putting my head against his chest.

"You need to get it cut," he says in response.

We are parked just in front of the castle, which looks like any other castle in any other backwards Terra we'd ever landed on. I am quite distinctly the opposite of impressed. "Well, what are we going to do now that Duchess... uh..." I take in a huge breath only to let it out in a deflating whoosh. "Duchess.... whatserface is out of our hands?"

Aerrow's lips twist in ironic humor. "What _is_ her name? I completely forgot. Junko?" The wallops shrugs. Laughing, our leader puts his hand over his face. "God, we're horrible."

"Protecting her and you don't even know her name," I chide him. "What kind of knight are you?"

He shrugs.

"Well," I say carefully, reclining against him with a carefully neutral expression on my face as I gaze up at the ceiling. "At least that makes me feel better about not knowing her name even though I slept with her."

Letting them stew over that for a moment, I take a sip of water from my glass on the table, preparing for the onslaught. Aerrow takes the glass from me and drains it dry before standing up and heading over to the kitchen. I hear the faucet running; it shuts and he returns with a full glass. "Here ya go," he says, giving it to me. Junko slips on his Knuckle Busters, holding his hands out so he could admire the way they looked.

I flare up. "Oh, you guys are impossible to get any kind of reaction out of!" I accuse them, getting up from my seat in a huff.

Aerrow shrugs. "We know better than to believe everything you say, Lark. Besides, she's not your type."

"God, you're so boring."

"Sorry."

After a sharp exhale and a few incensed moments of thought, I add, "How do you even know I have a type? I don't have a type."

"If you had a type, it wouldn't be the type Duchess Whatserface is."

Curious now, I settle down next to him again, staring intently at his scarred face. Reading him to see if he was joshing me, but no, Aerrow is being sincere. This isn't a very rare occurance, of course, but I find his constant (and sometimes abrasive) honesty makes everything he says even more attention-worthy. The moment you catch him out right lying is the moment you find something interesting, or possibly dangerous, as such things tend to run in the same pack.

"So what is my type?" I ask him, and then Junko, "Well? Tell me. Give me your best shot."

The wallop tilted his head from side to side, mouth twisted in uncertainty. "I don't know," he says, ears fluttering like so many thoughts flashing through his mind. "_Not _royalty."

"God, no. None of that, thanks."

My knight seems to pick up on Junko's thought process, adding in his own with excitement. "Someone a little more laid back than you. You know, not so sensitive."

"I'm not sensitive."

"Yes, you are," Junko and Aerrow said at the same time. "Anyway," Junko kept on, "Umm... help us out. You should know what you like in people."

"I don't like people."

"Most people," Aerrow pointed out.

"Yeah, like, we're talking ninety percent," Junko admitted, a little sad at the fact. "But anyway we're finding the people you _do _like. Your _type_."

I never thought of it that way. Of course, I don't want friends, and I don't particularly need them. But the words left my mouth anyway, too flippant and effortless for me to have control over them.

"Honesty," I say, looking at the floor, trying not to look anywhere else.

**OoOoOo**

Ammi-Mano and Rave hit it off better than Finn could have hoped. It was always a source of worry for a guy whether or not his friends approved of his girlfriends, and vice versa. A warm fuzzy feeling filled him as he listened to their animated chatter about various concerts and bands, some he had heard of and some he didn't like and some he knew nothing about. The subject gradually steered to mechanical expertise and they tested each other's knowledge, subconciously flexing their muscles and showing off who was the better mechanic and who had the cooler ride. Then they started talking about paint jobs which led to tattoos, and they compared those too.

Ammi-Mano patted her on the head with his large, rough hand. "I hate to tell you this, chickie, but your boy is right. Matching tattoos are _never_ a good idea."

The bangledon squirmed, pouting. "I don't see why! I think its really cool!"

"Really cool as it is, it's still a bad idea."

"It's not like I want to brand his name on my forehead."

"Ooh, names are even worse."

"You're being ridiculous. Both of you." Ears flickering this way and that, she huffed and puffed. "I mean, I know the reason why you're saying it. In case Finn and I break up I'd be embarassed by the tattoo, right?"

This caused Finn to sit up, a little more alert. "Well, h-hey..."

Rave sent him an apologetic smile. "I'm not idealistic enough to think we'll be together forever, Finn."

Deeply rankled, Finn went completely silent. Both Ammi-Mano and Rave knew this was a big deal, because nothing could get Finn to shut up. Uncomfortable now, Rave played with her hair, looking everywhere but Finn. "I'm not saying I'm counting on it," she said at last. "I'm just saying."

"Well what _are_ you saying?"

Her fur bristled. "Hey, you're the one who doesn't want matching tattoos, buster."

"That's just because it's a bad idea."

"Well, why is it a bad idea if not for the reason I just said, huh?"

Ammi-Mano, meanwhile, was awkwardly silent between the two of them. "Hey now," he said, tail waving. "You two really aren't going to get into a fight over tattoos, are you?"

They both did seem a little guilty of this, and realized it. Clearing his throat, Finn sat back again. They were in the engine room, where Stern had had his impromptu picnic the other day, trying to stay warm in Backwardstopia (or whatever this place was called). "Well, just for the record, I wanted to get something cool, like gears or flames or something."

"And I'm sure you won't regret those at _all _in ten years."

"Shaddup, pan."

Because the subject was still fresh in their minds, though, the subject eventually veered back towards relationships, specifically the pan's, since they both really didn't know much about him. Ammi-Mano just shrugged. "My parents already have a fiance planned for me if I don't settle down soon enough," he said. "In the mean time, I'm poor as shit, otherwise I wouldn't be here. No offense, man," he added to Finn.

"None taken."

"I love Forge, and I don't like leaving it, but my brother Cam's shop isn't doing so well and so..." he trailed off.

"The Storm Hawks needed a pilot at the time, and so they took you on," Rave finished.

Tail twirling circles in the dust of the engine room, Ammi-Mano rolled his amber eyes around, not really seeing anything but the memories he was relaying to Rave. "Every now and then. But when Lark joined, I quit. I didn't wanna step on anyone's toes, you know?" Smirking, he wrapped his tail around Rave's wrist to place her hand over Finn's. "But then out of the blue they offered me back the same position, saying Lark was stressed out and couldn't take care of crystals and steering at the same time or something."

"She _can't_," Finn insisted. "She thinks she's superhuman but even she's got her limits. I just wish she'd see that we're not trying to kick her out. I mean, shit, we need her." Quickly glancing around, he made sure she wasn't anywhere near to have heard the previous statement. "Don't tell her I said that."

Rave squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't worry, Finn," she said. "She probably needs you too."

**OoOoOo**

**Piper / Glaive**

The _Mercury _constantly hums, the engines forming life in her small, thin metal frame. One hand rests on the steering wheel as I look out the front glass, searching the ghosts around me for answers to questions I didn't even know how to ask. Eventually they pulled away, streaming towards the doors moments before they slid open and someone walks in. A dry hiss of scales across the floor- his tail, dragging along behind him."Thank you for helping out, Repton," I say, only mildly aware of how weird the words are. I turn around to face him, considering the muted, liquid fire in his eye. "Trying to split the flight shift between three people when one of them is almost always somewhere else… Even if there's no real action, you have helped. A great deal."

I have something prepared. A cabinet, underneath the wheel- a bag of coins. Grabbing it, I extend the money towards him. He glances down, expression unreadable, that single yellow eye still so piercing and intense. "What's this?" he wants to know, and I swear the closest way to describe it would be _disgust_.

Insulted now, I say, "Payment, of course." Shaking blue hair out of my face, I push it up against his chest. "I don't expect you to work for free. I helped you out once, years ago. I can't keep calling on that one favor and keep expecting you to cash in nothing in return."

Rattling laughter escapes his lungs, rushing past me like a dry burst of sand. "That?" he says. "The way I remember that day, you owe me for saving your life. What on earth did you ever do for me?"

Resisting the urge to take the bag of coins and dash them across his face, I just take his words into consideration. Whatever point he was trying to make, it was beyond me. I'd always known there was more to him sticking around than just that one day, but some part of me believed that my help had been some sort of basis for his current aid. Of course there was always the very real possibility that he was just biding his time, working slowly towards some sort of end goal that didn't benefit me at all, but I of course kept very close tabs on Bogaton. Some young rip had taken Repton's old throne and formed his own Raptor squadron. Repton was out of the game, seemingly for good. So was that why he deigned to come aboard my ship? Was he just... bored?

Deliberate and slow, so as not to startle him, I grab his claw and I rest the money in it, closing his digits around the bag. "We'll give you a ride to Bogaton so you don't have to fly all the way back in your Bone Wing again." Sandwiching the money and his hand with both of mine, I give it a firm shake, looking him in the eye. "I'm in the habit of keeping business partners alive."

He just laughs again. "Whatever you say, 'Boss'."

Somehow, I find my lips curling, smiling in response. I quickly turn before he can see it, gazing out impassively at the Terra's castle once more.

Just another backwards court in another backwards Terra.


	6. The Conversation

**(Wait a second. Have you come so far, for it to end like this?) **

**"Oblivion" - Patrick Wolf.**

**"Fight fires in your best clothes, touch skin with your eyes closed. Chase thunder with the volume down; pack a suitcase, wander to the next town."**

**"I'll Hold My Breath" - Ellie Goulding**

**OoOoOo**

**THE INTERLUDE**

**BOTH SIDES - YEAR FIVE**

**26. Laugh.**

_It's good to know you still remember how to laugh_, Rave feels like telling Piper one day, but decides against it because it would only draw attention to the fact that this wasn't a normal occurrence.

Cheerfully rummaging around in their shared rucksack, Piper finds some cigarettes she had stashed for emergencies. Considering at the moment the two girls were in the middle of nowhere without a way station in sight, it seems like enough of an emergency to warrant one.

Rave's sensitive nose crinkles. "When did you pick that up, anyways?" she asks. Feeling particularly prissy at that moment, she adds: "It doesn't make you look cool."

"Of course it does," Piper says, sticking out her tongue. "That's why I picked it up."

"Yeah, right."

Having a little difficulty finding the matches in the dark, she asks Rave to feel around for them instead. Piper's own hands, while still nimble enough to handle her glaive, were decidedly less sensitive than they had been five years ago. The fires that had saved Atmos that day, that had destroyed the Storm Hawks, also gave Piper severe nerve damage.

(Nova picked up the fallen sword-)

Her lip twitched as she took off her gloves and squinted at her palms in the fading light of that nowhere Terra.

( I grabbed his arm to try and stop him- that brilliant light of whatever infernal source powered him almost blinding me.)

Fumbling, she dropped the cigarette onto the dirt.

(My hands wrap around his wrist-)

Rave's bright green eyes fill up her vision and the other girl smiles at Piper, waving a box of matches in front of her nose. A claw seems to have gripped her heart, but when she clutched at Rave and held her tightly some of the pain seemed to ease.

(I fell, writhing in the bloody field, watching the singed muscles on my hands twitch and sizzle and turn black.)

Letting go, she cleared her throat. "My dad died in the war when I was around thirteen. There was a pack of these things among his possessions," she said, trying to keep her tone of voice normal. "I found them, thought- why not?" Straightening up, she tucked everything away, her craving suddenly vanished. "Aerrow made me quit as part of my agreement to join the Storm Hawks."

Her friend blinks in confusion. "...oh," she says at last. "Yeah, he seems the type."

"He always treated me like his kid sister," Piper sighs.

Wondering how far to prod, Rave managed to say, "Is that um... why you left?"

Laughing again, though Rave didn't think she had been very funny, Piper could only shake her head and say, "No, no, of course not."

"Then why?"

Burnt orange eyes found hers, visibly calculating what to say next. "Too many ghosts," she said at last. "Too many ghosts on that ship, and not enough power to control them."

**27. Overwhelmed.**

At the beginning of her fifth year, Arygyn booted Piper from the manor. He said he did it to all his students after a certain point (had done it with Tern twice already, as it would so happen) and for her not to come back until she started having dreams about being in classrooms or learning from books. She asked him if he was joking and he said he was not- the subconscious sends us messages, he said, and he would only teach those who were truly willing, who truly _needed_ to be taught. So she started the Renegades, her own small mercenary squadron.

Rave tags along with her wherever she goes, collecting new tattoos and piercings the way others might hoard stamps or coins. The scars on her wrists that once marked her as a slave got drowned out in a sea of ink and color. Over time, symbolically, she was taking back control of her own body.

("And you make fun of me for smoking to look cool," Piper says softly, over the buzz of crystal-powered needles. She runs one hand over the mark on Rave's lower back, and one on her shoulder blade.

Rave grins. "At least my lungs won't turn black.")

And of course, when they decide to go visit Arygyn and Tern one day, what should she find but them arguing.

"As punishment for choosing such a _ridiculous _first form-"

"I didn't choose it, it just happened!"

"AS PUNISHMENT," Arygyn says louder, looking up at the ceiling as he blatantly ignores Tern's protests.

"Arygyn, this isn't fair!"

"-FOR CHOOSING SUCH A _RIDICULOUS _FIRST FORM-"

"Uh, hello?" Glaive manages to sneak in, but just then Tern starts to bellow back at their master.

"Who says you have the right to punish me-"

"-you are going to spend one full year-" Arygyn continues, his eyes closed now and his arms rigid at his side, one hand clutching his staff so hard Rave fears it might snap.

"-for something _you _taught me-"

Rave starts tugging on the other girl's sleeve. "Maybe we should leave, Piper,"

"-_wearing _that ridiculous form-

"-yourself, you dusty old fruit-

So loud now that most thunderclaps probably wouldn't have been able to drown him out, the sound of Arygyn's shouting echoes through the whole stronghold, making the very stones shiver with rage. "-SO THAT YOU CAN SEE THE UTTER USELESSNESS-"

Tern tries to keep up, shouting as loud as he could over the no doubt magically-enhanced voice of his master. "-FAGGOT-GAYBOY-FAIRY YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE MORE-"

Arygyn opens his eyes only to glare furiously up at his apprentice. "-OF THE WAY YOU HAVE SQUANDERED THE YEARS I SPENT RAISING AND TEACHING YOUR WORTHLESS HIDE!"

"-LESBIANS HIT ON ME AS A GIRL THAN MEN DO YOU AS YOUR _**SELF**_!" Tern finishes off just after the last echoes of Arygyn's voice finally stopped ringing in Piper's ears.

**28. Journey.**

It was only when they both pause to take a breath in between screaming at each other that Piper makes her presence known. "Hello, boys," she murmurs to them around an unlit cigarette. Arygyn didn't condone smoking inside, but her mouth was feeling lonely. As long as she didn't light it, it shouldn't be a problem.

And that is when Rave is unfortunate enough to actually see the change as it happens- one moment, Tern was undeniably male, with a dark shadow of stubble gracing his chin, and then it seemed to fall off, everything grow softer and there was female-Tern, looking a little too cute in her male clothing for her own good.

Piper finds herself anxiously gnawing the end of her cigarette. Bad habit. If she kept this up the paper would dissolve and she'd have a mouth full of tobacco.

"C'mon, Glaive!" Tern says, marching towards her and dragging her out the door. "I'm out of here! I'll prove to that old queen wrong- he wants to see me as a girl? Fine! I'll be the best damn- he's not gonna scare _me _away- I- I-" her sentences rapidly dissolve into angry muttering as they board the _Mercury _and take off.

**29. Breathe.**

The novelty of seeing Tern completely and utterly wigged out soon loses its charm. "_Relax_," Rave told the apprentice shape-shifter, standing behind where she was sitting and rubbing at her shoulders. "Chill, dude- er… dude…ette? And while I'm still too bugged out by this whole mess to really talk about it, please, please, _please _do not change in front of me again. Ever."

**30. Highway.**

Terra Saharr is their first stop as a ragtag squadron- even if Tern admits that she'd probably be returning to Arygyn in a month or two- for the moment they are together and they need a gig. Saharr is more than welcome to let them join the guard caravan for their next water shipment. The fact that Piper had some of the biggest names in the Atmos to drop certainly didn't hurt.

**31. World.**

"Atmos is a big place," Tern tells her. Despite the argument with Arygyn, he had quickly resumed his male shape. "Where do you want to run off to next?"

"Somewhere fun," Rave says.

"Somewhere far away from here," Glaive says.

"Somewhere with a really wild fiesta scene!" Arygyn interjects, stepping between the two girls and putting an arm around their waist to pull them to his sides. "Hell-_o_, Rave my Rambunctious Renegade Rapscallion Risk-Taker!"

The three all shout, "Arygyn!" in various tones of shock, anger, and confusion.

**32. Promise.**

"I see you broke our deal," Arygyn says, piercing Tern with an unhappy glare. Tern twiddles his thumbs and looks down, muttering something about birds and girls and how they weren't the same.

**33. Wait.**

Arygyn leaves in bird form, his remark hanging in the air long after he had left. "I guess I have to let you wait a little longer before you come back, don't I Piper?"

Tern flinches; Piper's exile had just been extended because of his failure to obey orders.

**34. Search.**

Aerrow finds Junko in Piper's room, abandoned now as a sort of store room. They weren't sure anyone could live in it- after all, Stork and Starling were both dead, but none of them could find it in them to accept the fact that Piper might not ever come back. "Whatcha looking for?" he asks the wallop, leaning against the door frame.

Junko sits back on his heels and sighs. "Oh, nothing," he says sadly. "I just thought Piper might have left her sketchbook behind, I... It's for Finn," he admits at last. "He says he wants one of her drawings, but I dunno what for."

**35. Forever.**

"When is it going to stop hurting?" Piper wonders out loud to Rave.

"When are we all going to start being normal?" Aerrow drawls to Finn, only half joking.

"When is she coming back?" Junko has Bruno's head on his lap; he strokes the dog's head, unable to pinpoint why he had spoken out loud.

"When can I become the next Dark Ace?" Stern says to Lark, causing the girl to drop the unstable crystal she's holding; it shatters, and each shard reflects their blood red Cyclonian eyes.

"When will I be able to forget everything that's happened?" Finn sighs to Junko.

"When are you going to stop running?" Tern corners Piper and asks her this; even he can hear the skeletons dancing in her closet, he who doesn't know about Stork and Starling and Nova's Harbingers and Lark and what really happened five years ago, the wedge that drove them all apart.

"Where," Lark says, sitting next to Aerrow on the couch with her head resting on his shoulder, "Is this all going to end?"

"Hopefully," he answers, "Wherever Stork and Starling are."

**36. Temptation.**

"That's not what I meant," she says, and- as an experiment- turns her head at the same time he does to catch his lips in a clinging kiss.

**37. Run.**

He pulls free, standing up and taking a few steps backwards, his face stretched out in shock.

**38. Sacred.**

"Uh..!" Aerrow can only stammer. "Lark- you- that's not- I don't think-"

One hand jerks up, silencing him as Lark closes her eyes, reigning in her own emotions.

**39. Cold.**

She curls up into herself, feeling something frigid like fear and shame uncoiling inside her gut. Arms around herself as if to hold it all inside, she tries to breathe and finds it hard to accomplish. "Temporary madness. Won't happen again. Sometimes I forget if I'm gay or not around you."

**40. Cover.**

Because his heart bleeds a little when he sees her like this, he places a hesitant hand on her bare shoulder. Not wanting to touch her for fear of his intentions being misread battled with the urge to let her hold him instead of herself, to cover him, because he was lonely too.

**41. Forgotten**.

Other things happen, most of them lost in the bleariness of semi-consciousness, but they wind up in his bed, a little cramped but not uncomfortable.

**42. Red.**

Early in the morning, as was her habit, she rolls out of bed to check their course and perhaps scrounge up something vaguely edible for her breakfast. The only difference this time was the heavy arm around her, the location of the bed, and the mess of red hair peeking out from underneath the covers.

**43. Dream.**

_Huh. Didn't expect that to happen, _is all the thought she allows herself to spare, looking down at him, still sound asleep. Then she goes in pursuit of breakfast, rummaging through the cabinets for coffee grounds.

**44. View**.

Steam rises, stimulating her blood to get pumping and move faster. Just the smell alone seemed to work better than the coffee itself. Deciding to forget breakfast because making it would be too much of a hassle, she moves to the helm and looks out at the endless blue skies.

Not too much later she hears rapid footsteps and glances behind her to see Stern running straight to the helm. He must have checked her room for her first, before realizing she must be here. Idly, she wonders if he would notice that the bed was cold and pristine, the air still the way it could only be if no one had slept there the night before. Right on his heels was Aerrow, also most likely searching for her.

"Good morning, Lark!" Stern says cheerfully, squeezing past her so that he could hold the wheel for a little bit. Lark makes a noise somewhere deep in her throat, staring directly at Aerrow over the rim of her coffee cup as she took another sip.

Her captain meets her gaze, and at the same time they shared a crooked little smile. Then Lark turns it into a scowl, trying to get ahold of herself as she demands to know when breakfast would be made.

**OoOoOo**

**WE RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED MADNESS**

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow**

Peering down into the courtyard, I try in vain to search for an assassin prowling through the bushes so that I had an excuse to jump out the window and escape this madness.

The duchess had been delivered safely to Terra Lulliatus, and the wedding plans for her and the prince would commence immediately- first, though, there was to be a celebration. A party. A shindig. A lacey, frilly, no-shit, actual masquerade ball, and of course the Storm Hawks would attend because of _course _Lark decides to be diplomatic when it indulges her sadomasochism kink.

_And I'm suffering the hell out of this damn jacket_, I think, turning around and spotting Lark as she wound her way through the small crowd towards me.

I think she isn't exactly pretty- she's a little too scar-ridden and underfed to really achieve that- but she knows how to command attention. Even in a borrowed dress, eyes follow her. Glances linger just a bit too long on her left eye, maybe wondering what kind of trouble you need to get in to have a scar that trails over half your face.

Only then I realize they're probably giving me that look too.

"I think I may have missed this part of being a noble," she confesses to me under her breath, joining me at the window. "Don't tell anyone though, or I'll have to kill you."

I shrug, feeling stiff and uncomfortable in the livery of Lulliatus' Sky Knights. The idea of wearing someone else's colors didn't really bother me as much as the fact that it was hot as balls. "I guess it's better when you're not the center of attention," I venture, not having a lot of experience with these things myself. To me, 'party' meant empty calorie soda and junk food and bright colors on a TV screen.

"Huh. Given my history as an attention whore, I never thought I'd agree to that, but…" She lifts a glass of something clear and toxic from a passing waiter, nodding her head to me. "I will certainly drink to that."

"Uh, hallelujah, I guess."

We looked out the window together, only half of Lark's glass gone. "Come on," she said, a teasing note entering her words. "If you stay here all night people will think you're not having fun."

I shook my head, feeling the crisp collar tighten around my neck. "They'd get the right idea, then." Carelessly glancing about the room, all I see is glitter and silk and other men sweating in outfits similar to mine. Stern is surrounded by at least five young ladies of the court, all of them swooning over his adorable little toy soldier act. Radarr is curled up around his legs, grinning at the show above him.

"I'm a prince, you know," he tells them casually, and I feel Lark stiffen beside me. Putting one hand on her shoulder to restrain her from bringing more attention to this, I simply let the girls predictably coo over his little "fib".

"Of course you are, sweetie," one of them says. "I can see you're all dressed up like one."

His eyes widen, eager to be taken seriously. Taking the hand of the one who had spoken, he keeps talking. "Yes. I dressed up like a prince, and I'm going to act like one, too. I'll make sure nothing bad happens at the party and protect everybody." And then he kissed the hand he had taken.

A fresh eruption of giggles and squeeing follow this brave proclamation and Stern basks in all of the female attention. I think it's safe to say he didn't inherit the gay gene.

"Wow," Lark says next to me, and I'm pretty sure we're on the same brain wavelength. "That kid is going to get laid _so much _when he's older."

Laughter squeezes it's way past my tight collar, coming out harsh and barking. "You're disgusting."

"What? He's not going to stay little forever." She fidgeted a little. "We already started having, uh, basic talks. I suppose I'll have to keep that up for several years for it to be of any use, though, right?"

"Well we don't want him learning from Finn," I reason.

She shudders. "God, no!" and there is silence in our corner again. Downing the rest of the glass, she sighs and mutters, "Oh fine. I hate to see you moping."

I glance curiously at her, waiting for her to explain, but she just sets her glass on the windowsill and grabs my hand, leading me along. For one moment of pure terror, all I can think is that she's going to force me to dance, but we shift past the other revelers and exit through a small service door.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Out," she says. "These things usually drag to the wee hours of the morning and I told Junko to watch after Stern. Let's go eat something that isn't dressed up to seem fancier than it is."

Laughing with relief, I release the buttons on my jacket, loosening the collar and following Lark. "Sounds like a plan!" I say, stepping up to match her stride and linking arms with her as we meandered down the dark hallways of the castle.

**OoOoOo**

**Finn**

In one of the secluded hallways outside the main ball room, I try to teach Ammi-Mano how to dance. Only feeling mildly uncomfortable, I put Mano's hand on my waist, saying, "OK dude, only one more time and then you're on your own, all right?"

"Kay," he says, ears twitching happily. "Thanks again for this, Finn. I don't want to make a fool of myself out there."

"I don't want that either which is why we're doing this out here," I tell him. "Right, so, I think the Duchess said it went something like this…"

"The gentleman leads," Mano says, and haltingly starts the dance to what little of the music we can hear from inside the room. He's just lucky I'm short enough (compared to him) that I can safely fill in the girl's role.

"No one must know of this," I mutter under his breath.

He grins and his tail comes over his shoulder to prod me on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'm sure Rave won't get jealous that her man is spending all his free time with his dancing partner."

I throw down my hands abruptly. "Come on man, you said you'd be cool about this."

Scratching at his collar, he twists his mouth and snorts. "I am being cool. You're the one afraid you're going to catch the gay." He ruffles my hair, ruining my carefully made do. "Whatever, I'll wing it. Let's get back in there and catch some rich ladies for me, huh?"

Feeling only a little bit guilty that I wasn't comfortable with touching another man, I shoot him with my double pistol fingers. "Being a wingman is what I do best, dude."

At first he opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses, his ears flicking this way and that like radars. "Someone's coming," he says.

I growl a little at that. "You mean you could have told if someone was going to walk in on us? Why didn't you tell me sooner, dude, I wouldn't have been so paranoid th-"

Not even pretending to listen to me, he claps a hand over my mouth and bodily lifts me up and into a dark corner, his whole body stiffening as he tries to listen. By now I can hear muffled voices, and I think Mano must be able to hear what they're saying. Whatever it is, it's not good because his heart beat starts pounding even harder next to my face where I'm squished up against him.

"Oh, man," he says, just low enough for me to hear. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Sh-"

I squirm out of his grip, whispering because I'm afraid now. "Mano, what the hell?"

Perhaps just remembering I'm there, he looks down at me with solid black eyes. "Where are the Renegades? I didn't see them at the ball."

"I think they took off once they got paid-"

Grabbing me tighter, Mano shakes me, his voice strained. "_Get them_. Fly fast and get them, bro, because there's a group of people here trying to assassinate the Duchess!"

He lets me go and I stumble backwards, my legs having turned to jelly for a second before I regain my senses and run towards the _Condor _as fast I can, trying to avoid the voices in the hallway.

**OoOoOo**

**Junko**

I'm doing my best to keep up with the lady dancing with me while keeping an eye on Stern but it isn't easy. Every time the dance says we need to turn around I feel a panicked sensation on the back of my neck, with one part of my brain thinking one two three one two three and the other one mapping out my location, all the entrances and exits, and Stern's location at all times. If anything happened to the little guy I'd go bonkers, and even though Radarr is watching him, Lark specifically asked _me _to keep him safe.

The thing is, there seem to be more women than men at this party. It's incredibly rude to just leave the poor ladies without dancing partners. So I ask them to dance if I just happen to notice one of them hadn't gotten a partner in a while, or they ask me. It's a lot of fun to show off that I actually know how to dance- I really enjoy making people think twice before stereotyping a wallop (even if sometimes we deserve it).

"So how long have you been a Storm Hawk?" this particular lady wants to know, one hand resting on my bicep as I twirl her around. I think she likes that I'm really big. Some other ladies were intimidated by it, though.

"Ummm," I glance over my shoulder at Stern before answering. "Since I was about fourteen, I think."

That catches her attention. "Why so young?"

I shrug. "I couldn't stay home, I couldn't join Cyclonia, and I couldn't join any other squadrons. I needed to do something, and they were there at the right place at the right time."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Lifting her arm above her head, I turn her and put her back to my chest, walking sideways in time with the other dancers. "Yep."

"It must be very eventful. You're such a well-known squadron."

"Well…" my mouth twists uncertainly. "sometimes. It's like… hours and hours of empty sky; then out of the blue there's a day or a week or a month of just always something happening, like, _constantly_. Then it calms down again."

"And then air monotony sets in."

"Yep." I twist. Radarr is escorting Stern to the snack table. My stomach growls loud enough to notice and it makes me blush.

"I'm still suffering from more than a little culture shock to be honest. But I'm getting along better with this strange new crystal witchery than others I know, here and on Klockstopia."

"Oh. Umm. That's good."

Looking over my shoulder once more, I find I can't see Stern.

"Excuse me if this sounds rude, but if you don't want to dance, you're not obligated to."

Quickly looking back at her, I blink. "Huh? Oh! No. Sorry. I just don't wanna lose track of my kid."

"Your… kid?"

Pulse fluttering, I search for a better word. "My- uh- oh-" what's the word Lark uses? "My charge." That's it. I think. (I hope.)

The song ends, people clap. The lady takes off her bejeweled domino mask and grins, showing a space between her front teeth I hadn't noticed till now. "Well why didn't you say so? Let's go get him."

My ears perk up at that. Another song starts. Walking briskly to the food table with my dancing partner trying to keep up, I find Stern excitedly engaging in conversation with more adult females. Squeezing past some, I put my hand on his shoulder and say "Hey there, buddy. Sorry I left you alone for so long."

Radarr squeals at me, narrowing his eyes. I quickly apologize.

Then there's a crash behind me. Instantly on alert, I push Stern and my dancing partner behind me with one arm, realizing Ammi-Mano is the source of the noise. He's by the music players, ripping one of their instruments right out of their hands when they refused to stop the band.

"Mano?"

Mano lifts his head up, roaring as loud as he can. "Everyone needs to leave the building right now!" Making his way over to the duchess (soon to be princess), quickly unbuttoning the top of his costume to reveal the Storm Hawks cloth uniform underneath. "Listen, I'm a Storm Hawk. I helped escort you here and now you need to leave. Let's _go_."

His eyes catch mine as I try to squish my way past the crowd without hurting anyone, Stern's hand grasped firmly in my own. "Junko!" he says, relief washing over him. "Where's Aerrow? And L- L- Gale?" Stumbling over the word, he tries to remember to use the right name in public. No one ever needed to know Lark's real name unless they were a Hawk.

"Mano, what's going-"

A scream pierces through the low rumbling of the crowd. Dragging his hostage along with a sharp crystal pressed to her neck, a man in a bright purple jester's outfit makes his way to the front, shouting for everyone to comply.

With one hand behind my back, I signal to Radarr before letting go of Stern's hand and walking slowly towards the infiltrator. He notices me at once, turning all his attention on me.

"Back off, wallop!" he snarls, showing me he held a volatile, explosive crystal in his other hand ready to blow at any second. I show him my palms, let him know I'm unarmed.

That's when Radarr leaps off the shoulders of another guest, chomping firmly down on the man's wrist. He shrieks and lets go of everything, trying to beat this rodent off of him, and that's when I move in fast as lightning and sock him square in the face. He goes down.

Another guest, in another costume, jumps on my back. Sharp pain shoots through my body and before I can think I rip her free, throwing her against one of the columns of the ballroom and killing her at once.

Horrified, then suddenly furious, I turn on the rest of the guests, letting all the air escape my lungs as I shout probably louder than I ever have before. "All right. Hands _up_." I prowl back to Stern, holding him close as I dared. "Everyone keep an eye on the person next to you till we sort out who doesn't belong here!"

Just as they start to comply, though, an explosion rocks the room (probably sourced from outside the castle) followed immediately by a smaller one probably strapped to one of the fake guests, here in the ballroom itself. A few bodies go flying, and that's when all hell breaks loose. They had been found out; now was the time for them to act on their plans.

Whoever '_they' _were.

I find Mano again, shouting at him over the clamor of people rushing for the exits, the sting of crystal dust causing my eyes to tear up. "Grab the Duchess!" My ears are ringing. I hope I shouted loud enough.

Black and purple smoke swirl around the room, turning everyone into shadowy copies of themselves. Hefting Stern up into the crook of one arm, I stop trying to figure out what's going on and accept the fact that there's nothing I can do except my job, which is to keep Stern safe. I stumble towards one of the back exits I'd noted when I first entered the room, trying to avoid the panicking mob around me in the crackling dim light of broken chandeliers. It's only too late that I realize that this exit is blocked. There were nine of them, and six were women. Just like the dancers, they seemed to outnumber the men. All of them have weapons drawn.

I hate, hate, _hate _hitting girls. I hate hitting anyone but I _hate _hitting girls.

One of them steps forward, her face makeup running from the amount of sweat pouring off her body. "Tell you what, wallop," she says, eyes honing in on Stern in my arms. "Give us that kid and we'll call this whole thing off."

Huh?

Holding him closer, I turn to keep my body between her and him. I don't say anything.

She levels her spear at me, advancing with the rest of the group while all I can do is back away just a little bit faster than they seem to be chasing me till my back presses against the cold pane of glass separating us from the winter outside.

I try to think. I have to think. I have to do something.

I can only grasp at the first question that comes to mind. "I thought you were after the new princess?"

"I believe there's a saying for this…" the leader of this particular group steps forward, menacing me with her spear point. "Waste not, want not?"

When I try to take another step back my heel hit's the cold glass, and I realize there's nowhere left to run. Holding Stern in front of me and wrapping him in my arms, I launch myself backwards through the window, doing my best to shield him from the worst of what was to come.

**OoOoOo**

**Lark**

After a quick change into something that didn't blast our squadron symbol out loud but more quietly suggested it on the corner near our hearts, Aerrow and I were out of the _Condor _and into the frigid winter skies.

"So what exactly do you have in mind?" Aerrow asks me over the flaying winds.

"First way station diner we see, we stop at," I shout back, putting my arms around his waist and holding on tight.

"No matter how skeevy?"

"No matter how skeevy."

We fly, keep flying. Sure enough, a ramshackle way station looms up in the distance, looking like every patched together building on a remote spit of land anywhere in the Atmos.

I feel him stiffen. "No. No way."

Bumping my forehead against his back, I start to whine. "Aw, Aerrow. Come on."

"This place is a dump," he insists. "There's skeevy and there's skeevy."

"I'm hungry."

"You were the one who wanted to ditch the party!"

"And you were the one who creamed himself when I suggested it. Besides, who knows when we'll come across another one of these? It could be hours."

It's bullshit. I know it, he knows it. But he also knows I have a point, and I also know how to manipulate him when he's hungry. Soon we're navigating the surprisingly busy parking lot. Weaving among other sky rides, I move my arms around his shoulders and hug him happily. "See? This place can't be that bad. Too many skimmers."

"Yeah, and I'm sure that's what they said about the Talon Academy when they pulled up."

I put my arms at my sides, gripping my seat instead of him, and remain quiet for a bit. He seems to regret the words as well, because I can feel him stiffen as we pull up to the first empty spot we find.

After a moment, I give an exaggerated scoff and say, "Low blow, sir."

"Well, it's true."

"Just consider yourself fortunate I wasn't behind that particular scheme, or I might actually be offended."

"Oh, of course."

There's more awkward silence between us as we walk to the doors. For a moment it seems like it might end soon until he twists his head towards me and blurts "How would you do it? If you had to start over again from right now? How would you go back to the way you were?"

A very, very long pause. I walk through the doors, saying, "Wait until after dinner."

"Okay."

A big hand lands on my shoulder as I entered, and a bigger voice grunts, "No weapons. Leave em on the rack."

The bouncer nods at an array of weapons in a nearby corner. I open my hands up and show him them to let him know I'm unarmed, but he frisks me anyway, finding only standard thermal crystals to keep me from catching my death outside. Aerrow though is forced to suffer through undo his massive two-handed sword from his back, and all the straps with it. It brings more attention to him, maybe letting more people know exactly who had just walked through the door.

The Dark Ace.

A few mutters ripple through the crowd, as they usually do, but it settles down by the time we shoulder our way to the bar. This place is packed. We must have come at rush hour or something. A friendly sign faded from much time and graffiti abuse reminds us not to drink and fly.

"Bet they don't even serve food here," Aerrow mutters to me.

"Stop bitching."

It turns out he was wrong. The house special was some sort of meat stew; we both order it, and because I'm not flying us home tonight I also order cold beer that was brewed right here. I'm a bit of a sucker for home made stuff, to see if it was up to par with what I was used to. Hopefully the alcohol will warm me up faster.

It's not good.

Wincing with every sip, I intersperse the griping about its taste with compliments towards the interior decorating which mostly consisted of the skeletal remains of dangerous beasts slain in combat. Aerrow mostly listens, his stomach growling making more noise than he does.

Finally I fall into a slightly buzzed silence, the large mug in front of me half empty. Feeling glad to be alive and warm, my mood only improves when our food arrives. That's when I seriously take into consideration how, exactly, I would attempt to take over the Atmos if I could and eventually come to the conclusion that I couldn't.

"What?"

"Take over. The Atmos. I can't; I never could." I finish off the rest of my drink. "I may have had ambition and the know-how, but Nova had the ideas and the experience. We worked as a team, accomplishing together what neither of us would have ever been able to do alone. Then somewhere along the line I stopped being in control of myself. It was all Nova after that. He possessed me, and Lark wasn't there anymore."

Aerrow busies his mouth with a chewy bit of tendon, his eyebrows furrowed at all I had said. I have questions about the quality of the meat here so I settle for the broth and vegetables along with a generous helping of freshly baked bread. It tasted sweet, and a little nutty. I liked it.

Sober, I probably would have considered the whole thing sub par, but what the beer lacked in taste or smoothness it made up in the percentage of alcohol by volume and as such impairs my judgment.

"Mm, forget the stew, the bread here is the _shit_."

Aerrow doesn't want to change topics. "I refuse to believe that. Just saying "It was Nova" over and over again won't convince me, you know. I like to think I know you better than that by now."

I set down my bread, turning to face him. "Is there a point to this line of questioning, Aerrow?" I ask sharply. The noise of the bar masks our conversation completely, no one else aware of exactly what was going on under their noses.

"I'm curious."

"And I could fill a museum with all the shits I do not give."

"Hey!"

A voice interrupts us and a grubby paw prods Aerrow on the shoulder, demanding his attention. A dirty brown blizzarian, drunk off his fuzzy little tail, starts talking shit.

"So you're the Dark Ace, huh?" he drawls, pushing Aerrow. Aerrow just sets his shoulders and ignores him. "You don't look so tough. I bet I could-"

I grab his wrist as he moves to try and push Aerrow again, locking my eyes with his. "Fuck off, Fluffy," I say, tightening my grip and standing up. He tries to wrench himself free only to find I'm not quite as weak as I look.

"Listen here hoser," he snarls. "This is between me and the Dark Ace, and-"

"And the Dark Ace is tired of every other booze-filled idiot challenging him for his position." Shifting my fingers just a little bit, I position them right over his pressure point, ready to strike.

We're starting to attract more attention. Glancing at Aerrow, I wait for some sort of sign he was going to play interference. He just shrugs. This one is all on me.

Clamping down on his pressure point, I hook a foot around the back of his legs and bring him to his knees. Soon I twist his arm behind his back and he's on the ground, face down. "Listen up fleabag," I hiss into his ear, grasping it with my free hand so hard I threaten to rip it off. "Before you even get to talk to the Dark Ace you have to go through me, understand?"

He squirms and squeals under me, begging to be released. I put more pressure on his arm, in a direction it wasn't meant to go. "Oh ow, leggo, eh! Leggo! I was just joshin' ya I swear!"

One of his friends moves in to help him, but I look up.

I look directly into his eyes, and I open up the door inside me, the door to a very dark place.

He stops in his tracks, struck nerveless by what I let him see.

Then, and only then, do I let Fluffy go. "_Josh _somewhere else." He scrambles to his feet, bolting for the door, and his friends follow him shortly. Then I return to my seat, irked to hear Aerrow chuckling and not trying to hide it.

"Josh somewhere else?" He asks, grinning at me.

"Not all of us are one-liner machines." Lifting up my bowl, I drain out the rest of the broth as fast as I can, not caring if I slurped. There was a time and a place for princess-like behavior.

Resting on one elbow, he tilts his head and smiles. "Nice show, Master."

I almost choke.

Once I control my self, I turn my glare on him, giving him about ten percent of the real thing. "What is _with _you today?"

He shakes his head, smiling down into his bowl. "Maybe I'm feeling nostalgic."

"Oh yeah, just lose yourself in memories of the good old days, right?" I slam my fist down on the bar, as if suddenly struck by a brilliant idea. "Oh wait, the good old days _don't fucking exist._"

"They- I-"

"Fine. You want a solid enemy again. You want your old squadron back. I guess I get that." I order another drink, determined I wouldn't pay for a cent of this meal. "But having me tell you my evil plans so you can fantasize about the epic battle of wits it would create is ridiculous."

"What if I'm just asking for tips for my own future evil empire?"

I laugh as my order comes up; mad laughter, bubbling up louder than I had intended. We start getting a few more nervous glances, everyone around us already set on edge by my little display of self-defense earlier.

"Well I've got to embrace my heritage eventually, right?" he asks with a grin, his face seeming for an instant like the shadow of his father.

Calming down after my laughing fit and wiping the tears from my eyes, I relent a little. "Well you're in a better position to go make a power grab than I am," I tell him. "I'm sure more people would respect the authority of a new Dark Ace if you actually tried to exploit it a little more often. If I do anything I'd also probably need to do in the background while you take all the attention and glory."

"Uh-huh?"

I pause, considering how much I had drunk and how much I should tell him. My place on the Condor was secure, and I liked it there. I didn't want to risk it by telling him exactly how much I had obsessed over something that would never happen. Or how much I still craved the power I had mostly relinquished. You needed to go to a dark place to get the full force of that power, and I had just started trying to pry myself from it.

"I don't know," I say at last. "Unite the terras somehow, I suppose. It'd be difficult though, they generally only band together in times of crisis. Too much individuality. I suppose you'd have to try your best to squash that. Or mold them together."

And then it hit me.

Aerrow leaned closer, drinking up my every word. Clarity rings through my liquour-laced thoughts as I regarded him, putting it together. "You're not kidding," I say, not a question or an accusation. "You want to be in charge. You're planning it. Some sort of revolution. Or at least thinking about it."

Flinching, he returns to his stew, stirring it restlessly.

"Wow," I say, drinking this new information like wine. "Wow."

"It's just…"

"Are you through with liberty and justice and freedom?" I inquire, honestly curious.

He is firm in his answer. "No." Although he did add, "Even if sometimes it seems to cause more problems than it solves." Abruptly standing, he throws too much money onto the counter and leaves. I finish off my drink calmly before I get up and stretch. Casting one last glance around the room, I dutifully follow my captain outside.


End file.
